


Erica's Book Dungeon

by blueprint



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Angst, Blow Jobs, Everyone Is Alive, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Failhuman Derek, Fluff, Grumpy Cat Derek, HBIC Erica, Humor, M/M, Nerd Derek Hale, OOC Derek, POV Derek Hale, Pining Derek, Praise Kink, Writer Derek, Writer Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueprint/pseuds/blueprint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale didn't sign up for this when he gave up on being a published author, settling on being surrounded by books rather than writing them. </p><p>He didn't sign up for his dick to like hipster dressing, Marvel loving, moles having, celebrity-oughta-be's annoying little shits. </p><p>He blames Erica. </p><p>Or </p><p>Bookstore!AU where Derek works at a bookstore and Stiles' his latest co-worker. Erica's awesome and Stiles doesn't understand the power of his own butt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Derek Hale loves working in a bookstore. Loves it so much, he'd work minimum wage -albeit sometimes he has to take on shifts with his sister, Cora, at her waitressing gig at _Paulo's_ , even though he hates people and food mixed together (When people are hankering for pizza, one does not want to get in the way) - and settle on life's basics just so he could work someplace he loves. 

He loves that new book releases get delivered almost weekly, loves reading over their back covers, making note to read the ones that interest him, and stacking them neatly on their designated shelves alphabetically. He has his favorite genres, authors, preferred writing styles and general themes. Working as a salesman in a bookstore, unfortunately, meant he had to master the art of faking interest. 

For instance, he hates John Grisham with a passion, knows to recognize a fan of his a mile away, too. Doesn't mean he didn't push the fuck out of _Sycamore Row_ when it was their book of the month. Again, minimum wage. Any chance at a bonus - Derek was gonna grab it, very forcibly. 

Since he's grown accustomed to John Grishem fans to be white, middle aged suit and tie sorta guys (sometimes bored housewives that saw themselves as could've-been-intellectuals), he is mildly shocked the hipster kid in front of him is buying a copy of _The Client_. His expression must have been telling because the kid in front of him sighs and chides, "It's for my Dad, it's the only thing he'll read that isn't the sports section." 

Derek simply shrugs and swipes the credit card handed to him swiftly, before returning it to the kid. "Need me to gift wrap it?" He silently prays he wouldn't have to display his shitty gift wrapping skills. 

The kid nods, "The one with the ducklings, please. Also a receipt in case he'd like to exchange it." Derek has a feeling his Dad wouldn't appreciate the ducklings as much as his son does, but he pulls out a sufficient amount of sheet and begins wrapping the book. 

He finishes the messy wrapping and tosses it in a store-branded bag, handing it over to the kid. "Receipt is in the book. Thanks for shopping at Erica's Book Dungeon, have a great day." He doesn't care how dry and mundane he'd sounded. It's a recited line and there's no use pretending otherwise. The kid says his goodbye and leaves. It's been a slow day so far, but Derek has a lot of orders to sort through, so the quiet is not unwelcomed.

There're still two hours before Erica comes over with Kira to replace Derek. It goes as follow: Derek requested the morning shift early on, on a regular basis, and Erica gladly complied. He opens the store at 7:00 and Erica and whatever revolving worker they had at the time took over at 12:30. The flavor of the month is Kira, with Boyd manning the store in case Erica was unavailable. Derek likes the morning shift for two reasons, 1) he's alone. He prefers not socializing too much with his co-workers, and though he'd gone out with Erica for drinks several times, he'd much prefer not to have her there to give out orders (it's her bookstore, ultimately); Derek likes to do things in a certain way. 2) far less costumers than the noon shift. He'd recommend books if asked, but was mostly reluctant to show any semblance of good customer service. This isn't Starbucks. He's here to organize books and ring up customers when they've found what they were looking for. That's it. Fin. Erica had scolded him in the past, as though he was some inane child who needed to be put in his place. He'd act nice when she was looking, but change his attitude when she wasn't around. 

A hastily changeable mask collection he stored inside, to fool and distract his enemies with. Or customers. Enemies and customers. Is there really that much of a difference? 

He's about to start on sorting through the personal orders when Hipster Kid returns. He's on the cusp of giving out the No Refund lecture when the kid speaks, "Hi, um. Question," Derek raises an eyebrow and waits for the kid to proceed. "You wouldn't by any chance be hiring, right?"  
Derek's mind flashes back to Erica whining on about needing an extra set of hands around the store. Derek assets the kid before him, he doesn't seem like too much of a douche. He could see the kid attract love forlorn teenage girls who'd go gaga over him to the store - he's dressed like a tween wet dream and has a face that could easily go in , _Seventeen_. So. Derek nods.

"Yeah, I believe we are. Why don't you give me your information and I'll pass it to the owner?" The kid grins and Derek thinks yeah, flocks of teen girls, storming the store like it was a castle and this kid was the Dragon's captive. Seems fitting considering the store's name. 

Derek retrieves a small piece of paper and a pen, the kid asks, "So like, name, age, availability?"

Derek nods, "Yeah, and phone number."

The kid smirks, "Shouldn't you buy me a drink first?"

Derek changes his mind in almost no time at all. Kid's a douche. He'll take his information but toss it in the trash as soon as he's out the door. "I think I'll pass."

The kid shrugs, "Suite yourself. My name's Stiles Stilinski, I'm 20. I'm mostly gunning for the morning shift."

And now Derek really dislikes this kid-Stiles-whatever. What kind of name is that anyway, Stiles Stilinski? His smile is tight and unfriendly as soon as Stiles finishes saying his number, "The owner will call you to schedule an interview," he lies. Stiles will never work here, ever. Derek might be petty, but he's generally right about people. This Stiles guy will just slack off and flirt constantly. Erica is better off not having him as an employee.

Stiles beams, "Cool, man. Thanks.". 

As soon as Stiles leaves, Derek trashes the note. Never work here. Ever.

 

\-----

 

Three weeks later, Hipster Kid-Stalin? (Wait, that can't be right)-whatever returns to the store. He walks up to the registrar immediately. 

"Hi!" He greets excitedly.

Derek fucking hates this kid. "Hello. How can I help you?" he falsifies unfamiliarity.

The kid, now dressed less like a hipster douche and more like a guy with a doctorate in Marvel, beams. "I was here a couple weeks back-probably don't remember me. I left my info here, but never got called back," Derek inwardly smirks _I'm an evil mastermind, hear me roar_ "Anyway, I wouldn't persist but I'm all out of options and this place is kind of perfect." 

His nostrils flare but he hopes the kid doesn't notice. Usually, it's a silent agreement that if you don't get called back during the first few days to schedule an interview - the boss dude (in this case, dudette) didn't think you're qualified or just decided to be a dick about it. In this particular scenario, it had been Derek who'd been the dick, but Tween Magnet didn't need to know that. "Well," he starts through slightly gritted teeth, "I passed your info to the owner, I suppose there's a reason why you didn't get called back."

Instead of visibly sagging, Future CW Actor grins, "So you do remember me."

He fights the massive urge to flat out roll his eyes, "Vaguely." 

Teen Sensation is about to speak when Erica busts in through the door, "Oh my God, Derek. Creepiest dude ever has been following me all the way from the farmer's market, I can't possibly go home-" she comes over behind the registrar, completely ignoring Future X Factor Contestant (can he even sing?), "-so I'm sorry, I know you love your me time in the store but Boyd's in Philadelphia visiting a friend and you're the only one with enough muscle mass on him to beat up-oh, hello," she says, finally noticing the presence of another person in the store and greeting Future Teen Choice Awards Winner, "How can I help you today?" Erica turns on the charm and the kid grins. He does that a lot. Future Colgate Ad Model. 

"Hi, my name's Stiles, I was wondering if you were hiring?"

Erica lights up, "We sure fucking are, dude! When can you start?"

Doucheazoid's grin grows wider, "Monday okay?"

Derek watches the exchange in silent horror. This cannot be happening. 

"Perfect! Be here on Monday, then. 11:30, Derek here will spend the last hour of his shift showing you the ropes, won't you, Derek?" She turns to him, revealing a devious smirk. Erica knows he hates that part, hates teaching nubile employees how the shop works, how to find books, how to work the filing system and registrar. Erica knows this and yet chooses to inflict such suffering upon him. _Oh, curse her darkened mind._

Derek lips form a thin, tight line, his glare penetrating enough to break glass. Or at least blow up Erica's head, as he is currently attempting to do. With his mind. Shut up, it could totally happen.

The kid looks ecstatic and, not waiting for Derek to respond, says, "Awesome, thank you so, so much. You won't regret this," Derek does. Oh, how he regrets it all, "Anyway, I gotta jet. I'm making a quinoa salad for dinner, never made it before, will probably turn out horrifically. See ya Monday!"

Derek waits all of 10 seconds after the kid leaves before saying, "Big mistake, right there," Erica shrugs and goes to rearrange the greeting cards shelf. "You didn't even interview him," he adds frustratingly.

Erica spares him a glance before continuing differentiating between the Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah cards, "He's eye candy, Derek. You know I only think with my vag. I mean, why do you think you still work here?"

Derek could try and make sense of that, perhaps come up with a witty retort. But he's not going to, because he's officially scarred for life. "Please don't say that ever again with me within earshot." 

Erica grins devilishly as she looks him over, "Don't worry, I don't think he finds me his particular brand of eye candy."

Derek ignores her implication. So Stiles -he forgoes the nicknames for the time being- finds him attractive, he'd realized that the first time they'd met. He's not about to swoon over an attractive guy finding him attractive, especially when said guy annoys him immensely. Part of him knows the kid didn't actually do anything disdainful to warrant Derek's disapproval of him, but the other part is rather bitter and really immature. The dude just bugs him, end of story. He doesn't need a valid reason to disfavor him. He just does. 

"Earth to Derek, this is your captain speaking," Derek shakes his head, noticing Erica snapping her fingers in front of his face. He must have zoned out. Huh. "Jesus, you want his candy cane, don't you?" 

Derek stares at her. Blinks once. Twice.

Thrice. 

Derek decides not to dignify that with an answer. Also, _candy cane? Seriously?_ Erica needs to quit with the candy analogy. "I'm going to arrange the popular science section by publisher."

Erica snickers, muttering "He wants that D," under her breath. 

Derek pretends he doesn't hear it.

He doesn't want Stiles' D.

\-----

On Monday, Derek realizes he does want _something_ from Stiles. His attention.

They've already gone through how to work the register and the store's filing system. Now Derek's attempting to show Stiles around, pointing out sections and explaining how they're organized. So far Stiles had succeeded in intentionally pissing off Derek only once ("I need your actual name to write in the employee card"-"Just put in Stiles."-"Is that what it says on your driver's license?"-"No."-"Then tell me your name!"-"I'll tell you what; get my driver's license, get my name." He then proceeded to extract the card from his wallet and stuff it in his pants. Derek glared at Stiles' taunting smirk for a few tense beats before caving in and writing 'Stiles'), but now. Now Stiles was unknowingly pissing him off. His short attention span is truly staggering, Derek notes.

Stiles' skinny fingers brush over book covers in silent awe. They're in the science fiction/fantasy department, clearly Stiles' favorite (It's Derek's, too). Stiles' apparently having a meltdown over a first edition copy of Ender's Game - Derek could be speaking in Klingon and Stiles wouldn't daunt from his stupor.

Derek remembers reading the book at 13, the story of a boy forced to play a real life game of chess drew him in like no other book had before. Even the fact that Orson Scott Card was a major homophobe didn't budge his love for the books.

Derek is two seconds from uttering qoH soH, when Stiles grins, bright and wide. "Dude, how did you even-how do you have this? This is like, 500 bucks on eBay,"

Derek snorts. It's not like the copy was in mint condition. "It was my uncle's, he gave it to me before he left for Nepal. I sold it to Erica for 200 bucks a couple months ago. She's selling it for 450, though."

Stiles seems genuinely shocked. "You. Oh my God, you're an idiot. This explains so much."

Derek narrows his glare, "I had no use for it, and I needed the money - I don't concern myself with it and neither should you."

"Still the stupidest thing I heard someone do ever, congratulations on that achievement."

Derek again tries for telekinesis abilities and wills himself to blow up Stiles' head. He fails.

Stiles smirks, "So you realize it too? That's good. Where's your Haruki Murakami at, by the way?"

He wanders off, leaving Derek to wonder what he's done to deserve this. He went to church as a kid (okay, so he missed out on the last... 424 Sundays. He says his grace on family dinners; that has got to count for something), he keeps in touch with his family (somewhat begrudgingly, but still), he visits his Nan weekly, donates to charity at least twice a year when he can afford it, volunteers at the homeless shelter on Thanksgiving. He's practically a saint.

St. Derek.

So really, why is this happening to him? He trudges after the young man and points out the group of books Stiles has been looking for. He turns around to face Derek, and smiles. Genuine and beau-.

Ugh.

_Why is this his life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _qoH soH means you're a fool in Klingon. *nerdy shake*_
> 
> [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

So Derek _is_ actually physically attracted to Stiles. Big whoop. Kid's attractive. He'd concluded that early on. 

Onwards. 

 

\-----

 

It's been two weeks since Derek realized his dick likes hipster dressing, Marvel loving, moles having, celebrity-oughta-be's annoying little shits. He's still not taking it too well. Because Stiles? Stiles is a lot to take in. He flails his arms around a lot, and is clumsy as fuck. He rambles on about meaningless things, and shows an alarming interest in serial killers ("My Dad's a cop; murder cases were my bedtime stories,"). And he knows so much pointless shit, and it's like, why? Why does he know that lemon and baking soda wears off the teeth enamel and therefore should not be used to whiten your teeth even though it's cheaper that way? Or how did he even get to a point where he absolutely needed to know the vast history of Breakfast cereal ("One Kellogg to rule them all, Derek.")? 

How can a person know so fucking much?

It annoys Derek. 

Kind of turns him on, too. 

But mostly annoys him.

They're unpacking their latest Random House shipment, and Derek's trying not to sneak glances at Stiles but his eyes betray him and wander over to the kid. He's apparently in a hipster mood fashion-wise and (and oh God, is Derek gay. He isn't even marginally gay, he is _so_ gay. He may act gruff and tough but the amount of attention he puts on clothes officially guarantees him a place in Gay Paradise) his tight mauve (ugh) pants accentuate the plumpness of his firm, perky, oh so grabbable (not a word, he doesn't care) butt. Stiles has a great ass, it's practically artwork. So round, like a bubble. A bubble butt. 

Derek is a perverted old man and should be arrested. 

So he's not that older than him, 26 to Stiles' 20. But Stiles' currently differing for a year from Stanford (Jesus, he must be smart. He remembers the sting of getting rejected from there – he did get accepted to UCLA, so he's not a total ditz. Fat lot of good his bachelor's in English Literature gave him, though) – he's not going to be interested in someone past his prime. 

Only he is.

Or, at least, he was.

He's probably not interested anymore. Not now that the younger man knows that Derek really isn't the sexy hunk of man meat he comes across on appearance. Really, he's a dork who likes to read while benching, who doesn't go anywhere on Friday nights and the last time he drank himself silly, Obama was still on his first term. He's boring, and so, so anti-social. Besides his sister Cora (who is also his roommate) and his best friends Isaac and Kyle, there's no one he keeps constant contact with, other than his co-workers.

And isn't that fucking sad?

"Derek?" 

He looks up from a copy of _The Elephant Keepers' Children_ that he's been holding for at least two solid minutes. Shit. He's zoned out again. He's met by curious eyes.

Damn, he's pretty. 

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He sounds worried. Derek's almost touched. "Yeah, just zoned out for a sec."

Stiles' lips upturn fondly. "You've been doing that a lot lately, big guy."

He ignores the little flutter in his stomach at the nickname. Lately? Stiles' only been working here for two weeks, not like he'd known Derek a lifetime. "I'm fine," he reassures, "Just got a lot of stuff in my head."

Stiles nods, as though he completely understands what he means, "Okay. Well, if we're done here, is it fine if I take my break?"

Derek blinks and looks around, the cartons are empty and the books have already been scattered into place. Huh. Must have been a bit longer than two minutes. Stiles hasn't needed a lot of training, he's a quick learner, much to Derek's surprise. After that shipwreck of a first day where Stiles acted more like a museum tourist than an apprentice salesperson, the guy dove into things on the second day, quickly getting himself into the groove. 

Erica had also decided the morning shift now needed to be a two person timeframe. Did he believe her it was because of the new influx of tourists into town? No, he fucking didn't. She was doing this to torture him. Devil incarnated, Erica Reyes. 

"Yeah, sure."

Stiles grins and scatters off to the storage room to get his messenger bag, Derek stares after him. He's such a goner. 

A throat is cleared from behind him and he turns to notice a suited blonde staring at him with intent. "I'm looking for a book."

'Well, no shit.' Is what he wants to say. 

"What can I do to help?" is what he actually says. He is such a sellout. 

 

\-----

 

The thing is. _The thing is._ He knows that as the days pass, the more he gets to know Stiles, the more Stiles gets to know him – the possibility of them becoming something more diminishes. Because if at first it was a mere physical attraction between them, the knowledge that Stiles is actually a wonderful human being who cares and loves and hurts and dreams has Derek scared shitless. He's growing more and more emotionally invested in Stiles and it terrifies him, because what if he falls for him? Can he really do that, fall in love with a 20 year old? He's learnt so much about him already and it's only been a month. 

He's learnt that his Dad is the only immediate family he's got. He's the Sherriff and they will do absolutely everything to protect each other. He cares about what his father digests probably a bit too much to be on the normal side, but Derek gets it. He really does.

He's learnt that though he's an only child, Scott might as well be his brother. He's only seen the guy once, but he could see the care they had for each other. Pure brotherly. The one time he saw him, they were going to lunch together. A small tug at Derek's heart alerted him of his envy; not for their brotherly love, but for the time they must spend together. The time Scott gets to spend with Stiles.

He's learnt that Stiles major is English Literature, too. And if that didn't make die a little inside, when he'd mentioned that it's because he wanted to be a sci-fi author did. Wanted to be the next Terry Pratchett. Next Neil Gaiman. Derek had pretended to be nonchalant about those authors but they were some of his favorite.  
He's learnt that a person named Lydia's determination is something to be admired, because Stiles did. Apparently, he used to confuse his adoration for her absolute fearlessness as love and had a massive ten years crush on her (Green-eyed monster, hello again), but he'd quickly come to his senses after he'd had his first boyfriend, Danny, and Lydia got engaged to someone called Jackson, who is evidently a douchebag of major proportions. As it seems, they make better friends than they do lovers and Stiles' quite okay with that. Derek's quite okay with that, too.

Besides learning all these things about Stiles, he'd also let several pieces of information about himself slip.

He'd told Stiles about his large family, how he lives with his younger sister who's around his age. He'd told him that they're a super close-knitted family. They have lunch at the Hale house every Sunday and spend a lot of vacations together. Derek pretends he doesn't enjoy them as much as he does. But that's his immature side, the one that decided to never grow out of his I'm-a-teenager-who-hates-my-family phase. He doesn't really mean it. Derek thinks he saw Stiles stare at him longingly at that. It wasn't towards Derek, though. No, it was towards that kind of family unit. 

He'd told Stiles about his two best friends, Isaac Lahey and Kyle Perrish. Stiles jolted at the mention of Kyle and exclaimed he's his Dad's deputy. Derek had already connected the dots, but acted as if surprised. He told him how they all met in high school, though Isaac was a year younger and how they bonded over DC comics (Stiles totally gives him the stink eye, Derek finds it adorable) and generally over being outcasts. Pretty, but outcasts. Stiles laughed at that, the sound making Derek's own lips upsurge. He told him how Isaac is studying to be a kindergarten teacher after taking a couple years off to travel, how much of good soul he is. Stiles smiled at that, so warm and inviting. Derek had to stop himself from grabbing the other man and never letting go.

He'd told Stiles he'd pretty much given up on his literary dreams, but is content working at the bookstore. He shrugged as he said that some people were just not meant for greatness. Stiles' eyebrows knitted close together. "You're young, Derek. Too young to give up," he had told him. The older man saw it for what it was - naivety. Derek has been around, he'd tried, and he'd failed. Stiles was the one that still had the chance to make it. And if the endless swarm of words that tumbled out of his mouth were any indication, the younger actually had a shot. 

The store's empty, as expected this early in the morning. The only reason they open at 7:00 is to unpack publishers' deliveries early. However, today, there were no shipments. 

"Huh," Stiles voices. It's the first time he experiences an uneventful morning.

Derek smirks, "It'll pick up in a couple of hours."

Stiles groans, "I'm bored, though. Where are all the books? I need to unload books, Derek. There is no purpose to my life without unpacking cartons filled with books," he overdramatizes. 

Derek snorts. A month ago, he would've found Stiles' whining maddening, now it's just endearing. "I'm sure I can find something for you to do."

Stiles smirks and looks Derek over, "Oh, I'm sure you can."

Holy-

Shitstorm. 

This is flirty Stiles. Cool, calm, collected. Cool, calm, collected. Cool, calm-

Fuck it. 

When he thought if he could really fall in love with a 20 year old, he'd already answered that question: yes. He could.

And he has. 

So fuck it. He's just gonna go for it. He's just going to flirt back and get this thing heated. Get them going; get them where they should be. Together. In a bed, preferably. He's not picky though, up against a wall works for him too, he just needs to get his hands and lips all over that-

"Think I'm just gonna tidy up the cookbooks."

Shit. He's zoned out again. Damn it. 

"I-yeah. Do that."

_Such a chickenshit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't really wait to Tuesday to update. So I thought I might change to to twice a week updates, since I can't seem to get enough of writing this fic. Third chapter will be posted on Tuesday, already written and the fourth one on Saturday. I'm hoping to keep this neat little schedule going. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one! Feel free to leave me prompts or just chat on my [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

Derek may have spent more time at the bookstore lately, much more than he should have. Because Stiles doesn't always have the morning shifts with him, isn't always able to. Sometimes it's Kira who shows up early in the morning. So Derek lingers a bit after his shift's over, because Stiles tends to be at least five minutes late. And Erica always gives him this smirk, knowing and evil. He is absolutely certain that if given the opportunity, she will press the button to launch nuclear warheads everywhere, not even batting an eye. 

He _does_ actually like her. Fine line between like and dislike, he thinks.

Stiles is half an hour late and Derek doesn't actually have an excuse as to why he's still at the store. 

"So, Derek. You're still here."

"Yeah."

"Reason?"

She knows, the witch. She knows. "I've punched out."

"Still doesn't explain why you're here."

Fine line between like and dislike. He's leaning towards the dislike side as of now. 

"I'm waiting for Stiles, okay? Happy?"

Erica actually does seem taken aback. "This is worst than I thought, isn't it?"

Derek sighs. It is. It really is. "I think I'm in love with him."

Her eyebrows recoil upwards, "Holy shit, way worst than I thought."

Derek nods. 

They transition into an awkward silence, not looking at each other. Stiles is still a no show. 

"Punch in," Erica abruptly tells him. 

"What?" He'd just finished his shift. 

"Punch in, you're doubling. I've a family emergency."

What the fuck.

"Erica, what-"

"My aunt's cat, Strawbelly, is dying, Derek. This could be my last chance to say goodbye," she says, eyes wide and filled with false innocence. 

What.

What the fuck should he do?

Play along? Call her out on her bullshit? What?

He decides to cooperate.

So he deadpans," Go, be with her. Say your last words."

She nods, "I'm glad you understand-" Stiles bursts in through the front door, muttering 'sorry, sorry' and goes out back to deposit his messenger bag. He's in flannel mode today, Derek personally hates flannel but Stiles manages to make it seem immensely cute. 

(So gay. The gayest.)

Erica gathers her stuff before waving him goodbye, mouthing 'thank me later' as Stiles returns and punches in. He blinks. 

"Uh, where's Erica heading?" Stiles questions as the door slams behind the blonde. 

Derek begins to tidy up the counter, rather awkwardly. Should he tell him her poor excuse or make up one of his own? Maybe just the truth?

"Family emergency. Strawbelly is dying," he can't believe he managed to say that with a straight face. Maybe he should've been an actor, clearly a missed opportunity.

Stiles frowns. "Strawbelly?"'

Right. Derek should probably clarify. "Her aunt's cat."

"That's. Okay. I actually don't know how to respond to that," he admits.

"I didn't either. It's best not to question Erica's behavior too much, it might do your head in."

Stiles smirks, "Are you living proof of that?"

Derek attempts to glare, but that smirk has his knees wobbly and he has to steady himself against the counter. Holy shit.

He's a tween girl.

They'd had a couple of teenagers coming into the store, looking Stiles up and down and giggling. One girl with purple streaks in her hair comes over almost every day just to ogle him, but Stiles remains blissfully oblivious. 

But.

Derek's now one of them. He's become a Stiles fangirl. 

Fanboy, more precisely. 

He's still not completely emasculated to Stiles' charm.

But.

He's getting there. 

Ugh, he should just find a good book and lose himself in it completely. Though every time he'd attempted to do that in the past month, he kept visualizing himself as the protagonist and Stiles as the love interest. He went from being a PI solving the murder case of Stiles' sister, losing themselves one night in the throes of passion, to being an 18th century French peasant conducting an affair with Stiles, a married courtier, that clandestinely conspired the initial stages of the French revolution.

Since there were no sex scenes in that one, Derek might have been inspired to write them on his own. For literary purposes, of course. The author clearly missed a golden opportunity with that one. 

Cora, of course, caught him writing one of the said scenes one night. 

_"Why are you writing about yourself having sex with a person called 'Stiles'?"  
Derek had jerked in his chair (pun _mostly_ not intended), his mind so engrossed in his fantasy, he hadn't noticed that Cora had snuck up on him. "Jesus fucking Christ, Cora. Warn a guy," He turned around to glare at her, ignoring her question._

_Her smirk just turned into a full on grin, "It's that guy from work Erica told me about, isn't it?"_

_And-_

_What._

_Why were Cora and Erica talking? How did they even know each other?_

_Derek frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

_Cora shook her head, "Disappointed in you, bro. I thought you had bigger balls than that."_

_She then turned around and walked off into her room, leaving Derek to wallow in his obstinate shame._

"Derek?"

He really needs to stop zoning out like this. "See, this is how she messes up people's brains."

The younger snorts, but resigns from further questioning, to which Derek is enormously thankful for. 

The store has a number of occupants already, including the girl with enormous crush on his-

Uh.

Stiles. On Stiles. Just Stiles. Not his.

 _Not yet_.

No, not ever. Because Cora is right to be disappointed in him, he doesn't have bigger balls. In fact, he would've thought his balls had shriveled up and died if he didn't fondle them almost every night to the thought of-

Of.

Yeah. 

Stiles notices a middle aged woman looking over two Sylvia Day novels and approaches her, asking if she requires his assistance. She looks at him and smirks, probably thinking that yeah; she could use his assistance in a couple of ways-

Derek had clearly missed his life calling in directing porn. 

(Actually, that's not a bad idea. He might have to look into that, maybe as a side gig.)

He notices movement out of the corner of his eyes and turns to look at a guy leaning against the counter, looking over his head at one of their books on counter display. He notes it's the same suited blonde who needed a copy of _Think and Grow Rich_ , so he's probably ogling their stack of _The Purpose Economy_.

He sighs. Seeing people much more successful than him coming through the store on the daily, depresses him sometimes. It's not that he's envious of what they've accomplished, just that they've accomplished it.

Because.

Because Derek had written a book.

He was 19 when he initially started his first ever proper novel. It took him two years to finish it, probably would've finished sooner if he hadn't had to worry about school. He also took his time layering the characters, as that was the part he most favored. The intricate life of the people in the fictional town of Luna Esker made him stick it out, he felt compelled to move the story along and actually finish something for the first time in his life. Something he'd been proud of. 

He waited an extra two years before he took his first draft to publishers, by then he'd finished his time in UCLA and reworked a couple of hitches in story, but he'd been so damn sure. So damn sure this was a novel that was worth something.

That _he_ was worth something. 

He was sorely mistaken. 

"Um." 

Judging Stiles for his lack of attention span? So hypocritical. 

Zoned out. Yet again. Fuck. 

Stiles is looking at him worriedly, the suited blonde had slipped away without him noticing. He was probably freaked out by the muscled man looking into the far space as though contemplating best killing methods. 

"Yeah?" 

"You want to take a break, dude? Doubling can't be easy, I honestly don't know why she didn't just call Boyd or Kira to take over," he says, frowning. 

It hits Derek, right then and there. 

Stiles actually cares about him. Like, sincerely, unreservedly cares. It's not like they know each other outside of work, he has no reason to care if Derek's tired or upset. If he's hungry or annoyed.

_If he's happy or in love._

He takes a step towards Stiles, his heart beating uncontrollably. It's ridiculous what this kid has reduced him to. He licks his lips and notices Stiles' eyes tracing the movement. The younger looks up and meet his eyes. 

"Hi, Stiles."

That wasn't his awe-filled voiced. 

That was the aw-filled voice of a certain purple-streaked hair teenage girl, demanding his man's-yes, _his_ man's-attention.

Stiles blinks away from him and smiles thinly at the girl, "Hi, Arielle."

Fucking-

This isn't fair. 

And how the fuck does he know her motherfucking name? How many times have they actually talked? 

"Um. Can you recommend me a new book? I just finished The Fault in Our Stars and loved it, so thanks for that one," she flashes him a bright smile and Derek wants to gag. 

"Sure thing," he says and turns to Derek, an unreadable expression on his features. Derek wants him to smile at him, wants that to be his default expression when he looks Derek over.

He goes over to stand next to Arielle (ugh) and they walk together towards the Young Adult section, Stiles' gaze firmly on the shelves while Arielle sneaks shy glances.

Fuck his life. 

He was about to make his move, his definitive one. The one they'll recollect together in 50 years, telling the story of how they got together to their grandchildren. The story of epic love.

Instead he was cockblocked by a 16 year old girl.

He slams his head gently against the counter, whining softly at this woeful turn of events. 

Fuck. His. Life. 

 

\----- 

 

Arielle ends up buying _13 Reasons Why_ , after Stiles' praised the book for a good five minutes. Derek makes note to read it.

In fact, he makes note to read all of Stiles' favorite books.

He's even going to attempt reading _1Q84_ by Haruki Murakami, even though his writing style fucks with his mind. 

That's how much he's crazy about the guy. 

\-----

The rest of the shift goes relatively without hitch, Stiles and Derek not interacting as much because Derek was right, so many more customers on the noon shift than the morning one. It kind of blows his mind how popular the shop really is, Stiles seems used to it, moving at a Rabbit's pace. Derek is actually quite impressed. 

When it whittles down to closing time, Derek makes away with the trash and sweeping the store while Stiles counts the cash at the register. 

Like this, Derek can picture Stiles and himself in domesticated surroundings. Like, Derek cleaning their home while Stiles pays the bills, or vice-versa. It seems so natural to him, so effortless. 

He finishes sweeping, putting a couple of stray books into their rightful places. Stiles had finished counting the money and has moved on to deposit the sum in the vault. Register closed, shop cleaned, books placed – there really isn't any reason why they shouldn't just close up. Derek had already asked Erica for a day off tomorrow, so he won't have to wake up early. She agreed to take up his shift, letting him know that Stiles' shift tomorrow is at noon.

Derek didn't know what to do with that piece of information.

He didn't know, until now. 

"So, uh," he comes up to the counter, Stiles still standing behind it, "Are you-" fucking man up, Hale! "-off?"

Off? Off where? Ugh. He is not a smooth talker.

Stiles smiles at him and slings his messenger bag around his torso. His torso, which is lithe yet muscular and pale and probably dotted with-

"Yeah, I'm off. You?"

Derek looks at him. Looks at this beautiful man in front of him. This man who cares about him, who he cares about. 

_He deserves so much better_

The pesky voice in the back of his head informs him and Derek-

Derek agrees. He deserves so much better than him.

"Yeah, I'm off-" he grabs his jacket and puts it on, "-I'll see you when I see you."

He doesn't see Stiles face as he leaves.

"Yeah, sure." 

Judging from his voice, though, he wasn't smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I had to inject some angst into this. Oops? Next update is Saturday. Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/) 'til then.


	4. Chapter 4

As Derek got ready for bed that night, he had had a long and stern talk with that self-deprecating, self-beating motherfucking _asshole_ of a pesky voice. After which Derek came to the lone, _largely_ life-affirming conclusion. 

That fucker's wrong.

He _does_ deserve Stiles, he does deserve a bit of happiness. Why not? It's been a long time coming, he's had his fair share of misery and angst, now's his time to exult and celebrate. However, all of that had been concluded after the situation arose, after Derek was tucked away safely in his home, away from Stiles.  
Is that how it's going to be? Derek realizing what an idiot he is, but when it's time to man up and rise to the challenge – just coward away like a dog with its tail between its legs? He's not 18 anymore, why can't he be an adult at long last and accept that he deserves things in life? Just because-

Just because of _him._

He sighs as his head hits the pillow. He was his chemistry teacher, Derek had been 18. It shouldn't matter, not now. Not after so many years, after so many therapy sessions.

_What a waste of time and money._

He's clearly not faced his personal demons, not on a much deeper level anyway. Because what fucking stable, meaningful relationship has he held in the past 8 years? No wonder he's so friendless, he can't open up to anybody long enough for them to get to know him, can't bring himself to. The stuff he let slip, he'd always regretted them a day after. Because what if they'll be used to hurt him? He's so tired of feeling despondent and rejected, when he's the one causing it. People want to be around him, they want to unlock the mystery of him – but he just can't let them.

He can't let Stiles in. He wants to, fucking hell, does he want. 

Fuck that irksome voice in the back of his mind. Fuck his personal demons. Fuck himself for letting them control his life like this. Because this is his life, his path and just 'cause it's been unknown so far doesn't mean it has to be so anymore.

He can build a new life, he can fall in love.

_Again._

No, that wasn't love. That was delusion. He was young and taken advantage of. His choice to distance himself from his family since he was a writer and therefore felt as though he needed no one but his art, his passion – had only brought on dejection. 

But with Stiles, even if they go awry, even if he gets hurt – it's okay, because that's a part of being human. He's not going to project onto Stiles what he feels the other man should be, because he's not his savior. Derek's his own savior.

No, Stiles can just be a part of it, a part of Derek's new self, of his new life.

And who knows, maybe they won't get married and have 2.5 kids with a house in the suburbs (ugh, that sounds boring as hell, though. He doesn't want that either way) – but at least he could say he tried, he loved, he lived. 

Viva la Vida and such.

So-

Yes.

 

He's going to go for it. He's not going to psyche himself out because-

Because he's going for it now.

_Now._

What. Wait.

No, yes. 

No.

…. Yes?

Yes!

_Yes._

He's going to call Stiles now. 

Derek looks over at the alarm clock radio on his bedside table. 23:04. Fuck.

He's a young guy, he can't be sleeping.

 _Still too late though._

No, he has to do it now. Before he changes his mind and try to reason with himself what a bad idea this is.

Because it's actually the best fucking idea he's had in a long time. 

So Derek reaches over to disconnect his phone from the charger, tapping on the screen to open it. He had Stiles' number. Erica made them all exchange numbers just in case.

He's pretty sure this isn't what Erica had in mind, but he's also damn certain she wouldn't object.

He pulls up Stiles' contact info and looks at the picture he set up for him; it's the cover of _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy._ He's matched all his contacts with their favorite books, and this one's Stiles'. 

He's suddenly overly excited and can feel his lips tugging upwards. 

He presses the call button and puts the phone to his ear. The phone rings, but the usual panic he usually feels when faced with a stressful phone call doesn't appear. He takes that as a good sign.

_"Derek?"_

He takes a moment to relish the fact that Stiles had actually saved his number, even though it's probably for work purposes. 

"Stiles, hey. Hi."

He hears the rustling of fabric and resolves that Stiles must be in bed already. It brings him relief to know he's not out partying and drinking, even though at his age there's nothing wrong with that sort of activity. But not Stiles. 

He's different. 

_"Hi, Derek. Um. What's up?"_

Right. He's never called him before; this is an odd occurrence, an unusual happenstance. 

"Uh-" you know, for a writer? He's really not so eloquent when it comes to this talking and conversing business. Maybe he should take a class. "-Just, wanted to see how you are."

Right. Totally legit for Derek to wonder how Stiles' doing, it's not like they dislike each other. They're friends, so. It's a legitimate question. 

The younger man chuckles, the sound slightly muffled, _"I'm good, Derek. Yourself?"_

"Good, I'm good."

Silence. 

Oh, for the love of-

 _"Want to tell me why you called me at-"_ Stiles pauses, _"-23:07 at night?"_

His tone isn't incensed, so Derek is thankful he hadn't managed to piss him off with his rudeness. He swallows, his throat clicks with the dryness. 

"I'm calling to ask if, uh—" _spititoutspititoutspititout-_

He breaths in deeply. He can't do this. He can't. Why did he ever think this time will be different? He needs to recover quickly, come up with an excuse, something-

 _"You're calling to ask if… what, Derek?"_ Stiles asks expectantly. Shit.

He knows Stiles cares about him, knows he's attracted to him. Why is he so keen on sabotaging himself? Going back and forth, being resolute for one second, then hesitant the next. It's a wonder he even got to a point where he was satisfied enough with his book to even think of it as published work material. 

"I'm calling to ask if…. _ifyou'dliketogooutwithmesometimesornotmaybeIdon'tknow._ "

He. Fuck.

He should just go hang himself. 

He hopes to fucking God, the other man didn't actually discern what Derek had said, not with the rapid speed he'd said it.  
Of course, Derek's life is unfortunate in a variety of ways. 

Stiles says nothing.

_For a really long fucking time-_

He's ruined this. He couldn't just let this go, couldn't just let Stiles remain his friend; he had to actually fuck up his life all over again. And it may not be like last time, but the hurt that weighs heavy on his chest feels the same.

"I'm sorry," he decides to interject the quiet and tries to salvage what remains of his already nonexistent dignity. "I shouldn't have-"

_"Yeah. I mean, yeah, sure. I'd love to."_

Derek blinks at his ceiling. 

Uh-

That's.

Okay. 

"Are you sure you heard me right?"

Who knows, he might have misheard him.

Stiles actually laughs at that, _"I'm sure, Derek. You asked me out. And I said that I'd love to. I actually thought you were going to ask me for drinks when we closed up earlier, but you didn't. I was kind of-"_

Another anxious pause and- 

_"-Disappointed."_

Derek's grin grows ridiculously wide and he silently thanks God that Stiles isn't present to see what a huge moron he is. Because he is. A massively huge moron, in so many ways. His indecisiveness is an enormous burden sometimes, but he's glad he was able to overcome it right now. Because _now_ , now Stiles is on his way to become _his._

_Hell yeah, motherfuckers._

"You're only 20; most I can do it take you out for coffee," he bites his lip, hoping his tone sounds flirty and playful. 

Another laugh, another arrow to his heart, _"Fake ID, buddy. It gets me places. Listen, this might be too late for you, but. Like, I'm not working tomorrow morning, and you're not working at all, so how about we get drinks now? I can pick you up in twenty."_

Derek frowns. Now- 

He's already in bed, already showered. He's had a long day, he did double after all. His teeth are already brushed, he's already had diner. Already read a chapter from the book he's currently reading ( _The Maze Runner_ , a new book Stiles recommended him. There's supposedly a movie coming out soon? Or a show? He wasn't really paying attention; he was too occupied being mesmerized by Stiles' cupid's bow upper lip. Anyway). 

All in all, he is set for a good night's sleep. 

And sleep is something normal people constantly require to function properly, renewed energy and all that jazz- 

Great, now he has All That Jazz stuck in his head, he really hates when that happens. He can just have a thought about something else entirely and then think of a song name or lyric - again, on a completely unrelated topic - and have that song stuck in his mind for the next who-the-fuck-knows how long. And really- 

And really, he's getting himself sidetracked. 

_"You didn't fall asleep on me, did you?"_

This zoning out shindig? He should totally see someone about that, like, actual professional help. 

"No, I'm awake. Just thinking. Um-" he's not an old man, as much as he'd love to pretend, he can still stay up late, it wouldn't hurt to stay up- 

-not to the point of death anyway- 

-He's pretty sure. 

"-Yeah, sure. Make it half an hour?" 

He's going to need to bring out the big guns. That means his gray vest and his tightest jeans; maybe combine it with a black button down- 

Or white- 

Perhaps cerulean- 

_So freaking gay._

_"Awesome! Man, I know this great place, you'll just love it,"_ he can almost hear Stiles' smile over the receiver. Another arrow, straight through the motherfucking heart. 

He snorts, "I'm sure I will. I live on-" 

_"I know where you live. I mean-oh, fuck. I'm not like your creepy stalker or anything, I just. Like. Erica might have mentioned it, and I might've remembered it? Fuck, shit. Sorry."_

Derek stifles a laugh. Can this guy be any more adorable? 

"It's fine, makes it easier for you to get here, I suppose." 

_"I'm truly baffled you don't find that creepy – but you are a strange dude who sells rare books at absurd prices·"_

"I-" Derek makes to argue, but decides against it. Stiles' right, he is a weird dude. Thankfully, the other doesn't know just how much. 

Because jerking off while thinking about moles placement? Yeah, not his finest moment. 

"I'll hand it to you, I'm an idiot. Still want to get here and take this idiot out for drinks?" 

Hey, that might actually constitutes as legit flirting. He mentally high fives himself. 

_"I thought I was the one being asked out here, warn a guy before you switch roles."_

"You're the one who prompted to pick me up right now, so technically, you reversed the roles." 

_"You sneaky-touché, my friend, touché. So, I'll be at yours in 30, be ready and be pretty. See ya."_

The call disconnects. 

His heart skipped a beat when he heard Stiles calling him pretty (he knows most guys don't like to be called pretty, seeing as it normally associates with femininity. Most guys are also sexist pricks. Luckily, he's not one of them). 

Honestly, why the fuck has it taken him so long? He could've taken Stiles' out weeks ago. 

He recollects his inner turmoil, and relents wondering. There's no point to wallow anymore. 

He's just thankful Cora's out tonight so she won't witness him checking out how his ass looks in various pairs of jeans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's one complex dude, let me tell ya. I decided to let go of any possible Kate backplot, because I feel it's been done way too many times. The teacher _is_ someone you know and will be revealed later on. Oooooooooh.
> 
> Hopefully next update on Tuesday. Comments & kudos keep this story alive, truthfully. Would love to hear what you guys think.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

Derek Hale is a man of restraint; he knows how to control his indecent urges when they arise in inappropriate times. 

However, no amount of preexisting self-discipline or contemplation could ever prepare him to the sight of Stiles wearing a tailored suit. An honest to fuck, 100% cotton, maroon, tailored suit.

No amount. 

He's standing on his building's doorstep, watching Stiles maneuver his way over after locking his (frankly atrocious and mismatched) Jeep. The younger has a smirk playing on his lips and Derek has to swallow. This is a disaster. He was not prepared for this, he was prepared for the casual prom look, the black jeans, the buttoned down shirt – not this. This might actually give him a heart attack.

Because Stiles isn't cute anymore. No, Stiles is fucking _hot_ and it makes Derek think of things. Dirty things that shouldn't be thought of in public. Filthy thoughts that might cause involuntary physical reactions. 

Fuck.

"Ready for our super late date?" Stiles says with an easy smile as he reaches him. 

Derek recalls Stiles telling him that if you flex any muscle on your body for 60 seconds, you can lose even the hardest erection (okay, so that information wasn't as useless as he originally thought it was. It's actually quite helpful. Case in point, now). He silently pleads Stiles doesn't notice the stiffening in his pants, or the flexing of his pecs. "Yeah, need to tie my left shoe though."

Both his shoes are tied, but the blush on his cheeks is high and embarrassing. So he twists around, and crouches down, unlacing his shoestrings before tying them back together.

Heh. The flexing actually _does_ work. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before straightening back up and turning to face his date. Everything is okay now. Everything's more than okay, everything's amazing. He needs this, needs Stiles. There's no need to freak out, no need to draw back. 

He smiles at Stiles for the first time, and the other's lips tug further up. He stomach rumbles with excitement, but it doesn't feel wrong. It feels right. For the first time, it feels true. "I'm ready."

 

\-----

 

The ride to their destiny is turning out to be quite awkward. Instead of a steady rivulet of words, Stiles remains uncharacteristically silent, fiddling with the radio every time they stop at a red light. Derek is trying to come up with something to ask Stiles, a conversation starter, but it all fails to emerge out of his mouth. Whichever question he comes up with, he repeats to himself in his mind a few times, but every inquiry just ends up sounding stupid or not interesting enough. He gives up after contemplating asking Stiles if he's ever thought of becoming vegan (the guy writes sonnets about KFC, what the fuck).

"We're almost there," Stiles finally breaks the silence, smiling over at Derek. 

"I'm assuming this place isn't as casual as Domino's yet classy enough to merit you wearing a suit while willing to remain open 'til late?" Derek is surprised at himself for managing to come up with a bona fide, not unintelligent question. He's really quite impressed with himself. 

Stiles giggles.

Like, actually giggles. 

Derek looks around the car, which is silly since they're the only ones there. And Derek doesn't giggle, not like that anyway. Not high-pitched and hiccup-y.

"Okay, so. I might have lied when said I know a great place. Well, I do know great places. Lots of them, actually. Just, none that are open right now," he bites his lower lip, for the first time tonight, he looks nervous. "If it's okay by you, I brought us take-out and a blanket, and right now I'm driving us out to the preserve where I _do_ know a spot that will allow us a pretty kickass view of the stars."

Derek looks out the window for the first time since Stiles started talking and does notice the density of the trees increasing as they go further along. He's slack-jawed, completely stupefied by this turn of events. How did he-

When did he-

What the fuck.

He does his best impression of a gold fish before finally managing a pathetic, "But you're wearing a suit."

Stiles shuts down the jeep, revealing Derek his brightest grin. "Yeah. And you're wearing a vest."

Derek blushes deep crimson and mumbles, "Not even close to a suit."

Stiles just laughs and exits the jeep. Derek closes his eyes again and wills his heart to stop its rabid beatings. Stiles Stilinski, a romantic? 

What.

Hestretches out to open the door but the younger man beats him to it, grinning from the other side. "You've arrived at your destination."

Derek isn't impressed. "You do realize I have a dick, right?" He will not be treated as though he's a fair maiden. 

Stiles' grin grows impossibly wide, "Yes, my good man, I sure do. I for one cannot wait to witness it. Come now, our feast awaits."

The blush on Derek's face was just beginning to fade and then Stiles had to go and say he wants to see his dick. What the hell, man. He avoids making eye contact with Stiles as he leaves the car, slamming the door behind him and taking a few steps on the ground. He feels rather than see Stiles, as he takes his place besides him, interlinking their fingers in a tight grip. 

_Holy fucking hell-_

They're holding hands. What. How is he supposed to handle this right now? He's anxious enough as it is, and yes, being with Stiles feels right but it's also nerve-wracking as hell since he doesn't actually know how the other man feels about him. He's realized he cares about Derek, but he might see this as a casual relationship with his friend/co-worker. But this means so much more to Derek. So, so much more. 

He twists to look at him; the suit still looks exceptionally hot, but he doubts it'd look as appealing on anyone else. No, the hotness factor is all Stiles. His lean muscles don't bulge like himself, but Derek likes it. He likes everything about Stiles, and that's just-

-A tad creepy, he's not going to lie-

-but also incredible. He likes Stiles, not a preconceived idea of him, not his early judgment of him as a hipster kid, or his first impression as a reckless flirt – but Stiles. Gorgeous, unadulterated, Stiles. 

He even likes the nickname, doesn't care he doesn't know his real name yet. He'll know it when they sign their marriage cer-

The kid ruined him.

"Okay, you've been staring at my face for a full minute-" Stiles snaps Derek back to reality. 

Oh motherfucker-

"-I'm just going to assume you've zoned out again."

Derek averts his gaze elsewhere, his cheeks flaming hot. He really needs to get a fucking grip on reality. "Sorry, I'm, uh. Sorry," he apologizes. 

Stiles shakes his head, "It's fine. I know what it's like living in your head sometimes."

Derek has the flashing thought about how he'd _love_ living inside Stiles' head, too, but stops himself before it delves any deeper. "I'm don't even notice myself doing it," he admits. 

Stiles starts walking forward, his hand firmly placed in Derek's own, "Look, I'm not a therapist or anything but maybe you should try meditation, it helps to center yourself, and might keep you grounded to reality."

Derek snorts. He never bought into that spiritual, New Age mambo-jambo, "Do you meditate?"

Stiles stops suddenly, spins on his heel and blinks at Derek. "Yeah, I do. It helps me with my ADHD."

And-

Uh.

He didn't even know Stiles _had_ ADHD. That explains his behavior a great deal and bridges over some gaps Derek had. He's marginally surprised at himself for not figuring it out sooner. 

Derek chooses not to reply, just nods his head in understanding. Stiles shrugs before he continues dragging them further into the preserve. He kind of feels like he messed up, disrespecting something that was noticeably rather important to Stiles. How was he supposed to know, though? He makes fun of Deepak Chopra _all the time._

He hadn't notice Stiles' been holding a picnic basket in his other hand until they reach a clearing. Above, the skies are lucid and devoid of clouds, giving them an ideal view of the constellations. It's a striking sight, peaceful. The only music to accompany them is the sounds of the forest at night, crickets and owls mingling together in a symphony dedicated just for them. 

Stiles lets go of his hand and Derek battles his instant urge to pout. He can be such a fucking stereotype sometimes, and with his bulk, it just looks preposterous. He watches as his date lays down a checkered blanket on the forest's floor, settling down on it before motioning for Derek to come over with a nod of his head, "C'mere."

Derek walks over, crouching down carefully before sitting next to Stiles; their thighs momentarily brush against each other but the abrupt electric current shocks him away. Holy shit, he literally _felt sparks_. He might as well be 18 again, because it sure feels like it. Like Stiles took Derek here after prom and was going to ask him if they can go steady. It's awfully syrupy sweet but Derek isn't going to front, he likes it. It feels not unlike a second chance, another round at getting it right. 

Stiles takes out boxes of Chinese food, depositing them down before handing Derek his chop-sticks and-

And he doesn't actually know how to use chop-sticks. 

Pathetic, right?

"Uh."

Stiles chuckles, "I also brought the accepted form of cutlery."

Derek is thankful Stiles isn't going to try and teach him how to use these little devil tools. Many have tried and many have failed. He graciously says thanks as he's handed a fork. Success, he shall not starve. 

And then a thought occurs to him.

"You had 30 minutes."

Stiles procures a bottle of wine, "Huh?"

"You had 30 minutes to get dressed, get Chinese, and come get me. You only had half an hour, how the hell did you pull this off?"

Stiles looks around uncomfortably, retrieving two wine glasses from the basket and setting them down next to the food, "I, uh. I live pretty close to you, actually."

Derek frowns, "How close?"

Stiles coolly shrugs, "Close."

Well, that answer doesn't help one bit. 

"How close, Stiles?"

Stiles had begun opening up the boxes, the smell hitting Derek's nostrils deliciously. He's temporarily distracted but makes himself regain focus. He needs an explanation. 

Stiles isn't looking at him when he answers, his voice quiet as it wavers, "Like, three buildings away from yours."

What the fuck. 

He lives where, now? 

Derek blinks. "Wait. Aren't you living with your Dad? In a _house_?"

He's thoroughly perplexed. 

"I am. Well, partially. Scott insisted I move in with him while his roommate went to find himself in India," Stiles rolls his eyes, trying to make light of the situation. Though this the heaviest Derek has felt in a long time. He feels lied to, though it's not like Stiles owes him anything. Yes, they work together and they've become quite close as friends, but he doesn't need to tell him every single detail of his personal life. "And he happens to live pretty close to you. I've only been living there for a week; I was going to tell you."

Derek does feel some relief that it hasn't been a prolonged lie that Stiles' been hiding from him. "I haven't seen you around though."

Stiles does look at him then, "Yeah, dude. Do you ever go out? I mean I'm kind of admitting my stalker self here but I dawdled outside your building a couple of times and you're always a no show."

"You… dawdled?"

"Yeah, I was hoping I could fake bumping into you. It's stupid, I know."

It's-

Endearing, is what it is.

And he knows that right now, his state of mind might not be as coherent, or as rational. But this is _Stiles_. Stiles, who likes him enough to want to fake bump into him outside work. Who has put the effort to pull this off, this faultless image of a faultless first date. Who even gets to have this kind of a first date? It's like he's thought about it before-

-maybe he has?

Holy shit, has Stiles been thinking about dating Derek? Like, not just fucking him silly, but developing a relationship with him?

It's a lot to take in, but Derek tries to maintain composure as he replies, "It's not stupid, it's cute."

Stiles seems to be grateful as he beams at Derek, "I'm so happy you're your weird self, normal people would've been running for the hills by now. Would you like me to tell you what's on the menu tonight, or do you just wanna dig in?"

Derek grabs the first box he sees and shrugs. 

"Such remarkable input, Derek Hale."

\-----

"My first kiss ever was Scott. Which is weird, right. Because he's like my brother and kissing your own brother is just gross. We both wiped our faces with our sleeves afterwards. We both agreed never to talk about it, or tell anyone. But he told Allison, so whatever."

"Allison?"

"His ex. The one-that-got-away type of an ex. He's been comparing every relationship he's had to her since they broke up. It's seriously unhealthy; I just wish he'd get over her already."

"When did they break up?"

"Two years ago! She got into NYU and Scotty's grades weren't up to par with their requirements –he goes to veterinary school now, though, so it's all good- so she decided it's best for them to break up since long distance doesn’t really work." 

They've gobbled down their food, went through half of the wine bottle and currently, they're lying side by side on the blanket, their gazes fixed on the stars above. "It really doesn't, though."

He feels Stiles shift besides him and when he turns to look, the brunette is laid on his side, his hands tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow. Derek does the same. "And are you an expert?"

Derek snorts, "Definitely not."

He can tell Stiles' fishing for information about his past relationships, but there really isn't anything to tell. One nearly life-ruining mistake in his teens and a series of meaningless hook-ups. Any date he's had since high school has been an odd occurrence that never went further then perhaps a goodnight peck on the cheek. His closed off personality can be quite off-putting, evidently. 

"I realized I liked both boys and girls when I was 11," Stiles changes the subject and Derek doesn't know if he should be thankful or not. "Scott and I were watching TV, some stupid Disney show I can't even remember the name of. Anyway, he goes, 'that girl is pretty', talking about the lead actress, and I thought so too, so I agreed. And I remember thinking that her brother was also really pretty. And when I told Scott what I thought, he was just like, 'I don't find him pretty at all but it's cool if you do'. That's when I knew him and me are bros for life."

Warmth spreads over his chest as he pictures young Stiles and Scott together, he realizes Scott's acceptance is rare and feels appreciative Stiles had the support he needed from his best friend. "What about your Dad?"

Stiles smiles fondly, "He didn't find out 'til I was 18. I'd just given up on ever winning over Lydia-" jealousy pang, hello. "-so Scott took me out to Jungle, you know, that gay club just outside of town?"

Derek nods. He's hooked up there a few times; the place is relatively nice, not as sleazy as he initially thought. 

"Well, he got us there, got us fake IDs and everything – though I don't know what bouncer in their right minds thought we were over 18 – and there was this guy that kept sending me drinks. He was actually quite good-looking and I didn't exactly have girls and guys jumping up and down for my attention in high school-"

-Derek highly doubts that-

"-so once I got the go ahead from Scott I left the club with him-"

"-You left the club with a complete stranger? Stiles, you're Dad's Sherriff."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "I'm aware of that, yeah. I was kind of tipsy and honestly, I just didn't care anymore. Wanted to lose my v-cared and this guy showed interest, wasn't about to shoot a gift horse in the mouth."

Derek's sure his eyes look like saucers right now. How can Stiles even think of himself as undesirable? He mutely fumes, if he'd met Stiles then, God. He would've taken care of him, would've showed him how much he deserves to be loved and treated right. 

"I can see this is upsetting to you, so I'm just going to reassure you that my virginity was still intact for another year after that night."

Derek blinks. "What?"

"Just. Let me finish the story," he eyes Derek circumspectly before continuing, "I got into his car-" Derek groans but Stiles ignores it. "-and we drove out to some make-out point in town. Next thing I knew we were parked and we started making out. He had one hand on my crotch, the other under my shirt, when-"

"-When your Dad showed up?"

Stiles laughs, "No, but one of his deputies did. Not Parrish, don't worry. It was bad, there was yelling and lecturing afterwards. None of which were because I was with a guy, just that I was with a much older stranger. When I questioned him if he was fine with it being a guy, he just shrugged and said he knew about me since I was 7, when I told him Jackson Whittemore had pretty eyes. I told him firstly, I highly doubted I said such a thing about that jerkface, and secondly, why the hell didn't he tell me anything sooner? I was pissed at him for about a week, but we ended up talking things through. We decided to be more open with each other and truthfully it's strengthened our relationship immensely."

Derek smiles. He feels like Stiles is telling him all of this with purpose, not just because he wants to fill the silence. "That's quite a story."

"Yup. Anyway, I've been a huge blabbermouth. Your turn. When did you come out?"

Derek fidgets uneasily, that's one story he does not want to share with Stiles. 

He didn’t so much come out, as he was found out. 

_They'd been shacking up for days in some grubby motel off the side of the road when Talia barged in, a stunned maid behind her muttering 'ay dios mio' at the sight. He'd been too far gone to feel any humiliation or remorse when he was discovered naked in _his_ embrace. His mother screamed at him to get dressed, opting to ignore his partner completely as she dragged him away. Derek fought tooth and nail, not wanting to be away from his lover, but it was all for naught. To this day, he has no idea how his mother even knew of their whereabouts or that he was there with his chemistry teacher. _

His chemistry teacher, Mr. Harris. Or as he moaned in the midst of pleasure, Adrian. 

At the time, he'd been too consumed with rage towards his mother that he hadn't noticed Adrian wasn't even bothered by the turn of events, choosing to remain quiet and in bed as Talia scolded Derek. As though he didn't even care.

Because, well, he really didn't. Not about Derek, anyway.

_"We're done," he had told Derek over the phone. He had snuck out to use the local diner's payphone as his parents confiscated his cell phone. They both agreed not to tell his sisters or anyone else for that matter, deciding that as long as Derek was supervised and kept away from his teacher as much as possible, there was no reason why their child shouldn't have a humdrum senior year._

_Derek had thrown a tantrum, of course. Telling his parents they didn't get it, no one but Adrian did. Told them how Adrian said he could be a great writer someday and that he had some friends in publishing houses he could introduce Derek to after he graduates._

_He still remembers the look of clear commiseration his parents shared with each other._

_"What?" Derek had told the older man, shocked at his words._

_"We're done, Derek. It was fun, really. Loved being with you. But I can't really risk my job for you, can I? Not for a young, hot piece of ass, anyway. So this is goodbye, Derek." he then proceeded to hang up on a gaping Derek._

_Young, hot piece of ass?_

Snapping back to the present, he looked on as Stiles stared at him in anticipation. He should probably tell him the truth; candor is the foundation for any healthy relationship. And Derek is sure that right now, they _are_ laying down the groundwork for theirs. 

He should tell him. He really should. 

"I told them when I was 18, came out during diner."

_Such a chickenshit._

 

\-----

 

"And then he goes - that's not my grandma, that's my uncle!" 

Derek blinks. "You were quiet for a couple of minutes then sprung that sentence on me. Why?"

Stiles smiles sheepishly, "Didn't know what to say and I hate awkward silences."

"You were quiet the entire drive here."

"It wasn't quiet in my head."

_Oh._

It does make him feel more at ease now that he knows Stiles is just as nervous as him. The silence they've experienced came about after countless talkative minutes. He doesn't know what time it is and frankly, he doesn't care.

As though Stiles can read his mind, he glances at his watch and curses. 

"Late?" Derek questions. 

Stiles nods, "It's almost 3am. I mean, I'd honestly love spending the entire night with you-" treacherous heart, stop your pounding "-but I need my 8 hours of sleep before work, I'm sure you understand."

Derek doesn't really understand since he's fine with 6 hours of sleep.

"I can call Erica and get someone to take over your shift?" he suggests hopefully. He doesn't want this night to end; least he finds out it was all a dream.

Stiles chuckles and for the first time since they've held hands he reaches out to caress Derek's stubbly cheek, the sensation sends a thrill down his spine. "I'd like that, but I need the money."

Derek feels bold and lays his own hand on his date's waist, delighting in Stiles' sharp intake of breath. "Your hand's heavy."

"So's yours."

Which is stupid, right? Because it's totally not, it's light and caressing and magnificent. Absolutely pleasurable. He wants to glue Stiles' hand to his face forever. 

Stiles cackles at full volume and he realizes he'd uttered those words aloud. Oh God, the _shame._ Erica will have a field day. "I mean-"

"Derek-" Stiles cuts him off,"-I think I'd rather kiss you first before we attach body parts onto each other," he says. 

Derek ignores the suggestiveness of the accompanying eyebrow wiggle. 

"I'd like that," Derek replies breathily. 

Stiles inches closer, and he's so unfeasibly close Derek can sense his warm breath. Stiles' hand hasn't left his face, which is tremendously heated by now. This man has such a disparaging effect on him - but he'll gladly go down in flames, drown in lava if he must, if that means he'd get to savor agile lips. 

Stiles finally closes the gap and Derek's drowning. Drowning in him, in a warm mouth that moves so benevolently against his own, solid teeth nip at his lips and he gasps out. A fiery tongue sneaks into his mouth and he sighs happily. He just feels so present and in the moment and yet so far away from reality. It's exhilarating. 

Stiles is the first to break the kiss, Derek still chasing after the alluring heat and brazenly pouts when he doesn't get it. Stiles snorts, "We should really get going.

"I don't wanna."

And he's regressed into a 5 year old. The power of Stiles' lips, ladies and gentlemen. 

Stiles bites at his swollen lip and with a mischievous glint in his eyes says, "You're quite possibly the cutest, you know that?"

Derek's thankful it's too dark for Stiles to see him blushing so fiercely. "Shut up."

"I can resort to a cheesy line like 'make me' but we really do need to get going."

Derek reluctantly detangles himself from Stiles and gets up, helping the younger man up and they begin tidying up the mess they've created. When they're done, Stiles grabs his hand and leads them back. "You know your way around the preserve," Derek comments. 

Stiles is taciturn for a thoughtful moment, "My mom, she." He stops and Derek regrets bringing the subject up. Clearly this is a painful topic. But Stiles goes on, "She loved it here. Took Dad and me on trips every Saturday. Taught us basic survival tips, showed us how to find our way back if we get lost. I remember my Dad looking at her with such awe and adoration - it was beautiful, what they had. I always wanted that."

Feeling audacious once more, Derek brings Stiles hand to his lips and kisses it – hoping it conveys just how much Derek wants the same thing, and with Stiles. There're unshed tears in Stiles' eyes and Derek's heart breaks just a little. But it's a good kind of heartbreak, the kind he wants to suffer incessantly. Because only true love can break his heart like that.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

 

\-----

"This was fun."

_This was fun_ doesn't even begin to describe how Derek feels about tonight. This was astounding. This was miraculous. This was life-altering. 

"Yeah, it was."

Stiles had walked him to his entryway - his attempt at being a well-rounded immaculate rom-com date, he'd said. Derek had laughed, neglecting to tell him that in his eyes, Stiles beats every rom-com lead actor in existence – past, present, and future.

Derek leans in and pecks Stiles' lips, because. Because he can do that now. He can totally do that, and he dares anyone to try and stop him. The peck isn't enough to quell his massive hunger to just devour Stiles whole, but he hinders himself. He knows how much the other man appreciates his sleeping pattern. He pulls back, but can't resist and gives him another peck, one that lingers a bit longer.

Stiles shakes with laugher against his mouth, his voice muffled as he mumbles, "Dude, I might actually consider calling Erica to get someone to take over my shift."

Derek wants to shout 'Yes, yes, you should totally do that. Ditch working and have hot monkey sex with me!' 

He wants to. So fucking badly. 

Instead he reluctantly draws back and sighs mournfully, "No, you need that money, remember? Call me when you wake up, though. Need you to reassure me you got enough sleep."

Stiles chuckles, "I will. Bye, Derek."

Derek watches as Stiles saunters away, his glorious ass on display. God, he laments not giving that butt a gentle squeeze before they parted.

Stiles lingers by the jeep's door, looking over at Derek with a smile. Derek smiles as well. It looks as though he's contemplating the importance of his paycheck and that fucking shatters Derek's heart into a billion tiny pieces. He finally seems to have decided upon some internal battle and he unlocks his jeep, hopping in before driving off. Derek's still on his building's doorway. 

As he climbs into bed that night, sleep hits him faster than he thought possible. It seems that when he was with Stiles, any exhaustion he had had vanished because he'd been so engrossed in the younger man. 

So sleep comes easy and dreams come easier, and he's not the least bit surprised they heavily feature a certain 20-year-old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry but I wasn't able to update on Tuesday, so this chapter was longer and a day earlier. Yay. I'm probably going to clock this around 20k words, but don't hold me to it. 
> 
> ALSO. So sorry for the ridic amount of angst and fluff I poured onto this fic. I just felt like indulging myself in writing romance. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY. WHAT GIVES, BRAIN. 
> 
> Come say hey, or prompt me on [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/).


	6. Chapter 6

_"There's a smile on his face, it's weird."_

Derek rouses as a woman's voice penetrates his dreams. Silky, pale limbs disappearing into darkness as he slowly regain consciousness. He groans, not wanting to lose the satisfying imagery.

"Shit, Erica, I think he's waking up. Keep me updated on your end. Talk to you later."

Eyes still closed, he realizes the feminine voice belongs to Cora. He groans again. "Why are you in my room?"

He feels the bed dip beside him but refuses to open his eyes. Maybe if he stays like this she'll just go away and he can go back to his luminous dreams. 

He's never been a lucky man. 

"Heard you had a date last night," Cora states and Derek's eyes fly right open. How the hell did she-

 _Ugh._ Erica. 

He's filled with compassion knowing Stiles had probably been meticulously interrogated by their boss to get this sort of information. Though Stiles has the noon shift, which means-

"What time is it?"

"Really, Derek? That's your great way to avoid talking to me about Stiles, that's just awesome. It's a little past 4."

Holy fuck- 

Derek hasn't slept this much since he was a teenager. He supposes his mind really liked where it was at and wanted to avoid reality as much as possible. "Jesus Christ."

"On a cracker. Go on-" She pokes his side and he growls lowly. Baby sisters suck. "-Tell me."

He sighs, "Nothing to tell, we went on a date."

She snorts, "Must have been one magical date."

He hums in agreement, content and uncaring. "T'was."  
"Well, then. That means I gotta tell Mom!" She jumps off the bed and scurries out of his bedroom. 

Uncaring, sure, but only to some extent. He jumps off and makes after her, "Cora, you little- get back here!" he reaches her at the kitchen and attempts to grab her iPhone – fucking hates iPhones, Android's where it's at – but she's too quick on her toes and they end up looking each other over the kitchen's island. "Give me the phone, Cora."

She smirks, and the sight resembles Erica's evil expression. They really _have_ been spending time together, too much apparently. He still has no idea how they met, Cora never comes to the store and he's never introduced them. "You'll have to bribe me, brother dearest."

He rubs a hand over his face. He just woke up, after many beautiful hours spent with literally the man of his dreams and he has to deal with this? It _is_ possible for the universe to hate a person so much. He's living proof. "This isn't high school, Cor. We're both mature adults. So, you know. Gimme."

Cora looks utterly unconvinced. "I don't think so, little bro."

Did she just- 

Honestly-

"Six years older than you. _Six years older_."

She bites her lip. Presumably to prevent herself from bursting into voluble laughter, "Then stop acting like a little brat and bribe me already."

Derek sighs. This is a losing fight. Truthfully, he wants to be the one to tell his mother about his love life himself – especially considering the disastrous manner in which they started. "Fine. I'll give you 5 bucks, how's that sound?"

"That sounds like you think I'm still in first grade."

Derek smirks. "Oh, you aren't?"

Cora raises the iPhone, presenting it to Derek. "I have Mom on speed dial."

"Shit, damn it. Okay. You can go out with Isaac."

Her eyes brighten at that, grin attaching itself onto her lips. She didn't hang with them in high school – the six years age difference at fault – but they grew older, and Cora started being around more, especially when Isaac had been over. Derek knew he liked her, too, but did nothing out of respect for Derek. "Really?"

"Yes, really. I'll call Isaac right now if you put down your phone," he promises. 

She puts it down on the island, an insufferably giant grin on her face. "Thanks, baby bro."

Fucking-

"Baby bro? Baby bro, Cora? _Six years older._ I'm-"

"- _You're_ calling Isaac. Now."

Derek scowls and mumbles, "I hope you he kisses you like jellyfish." 

"I hope Stiles has a tiny dick."

Derek blinks. "I _know_ Isaac has a tiny dick."

He really doesn't, but this is so _on._

"How does it feel dating someone who's not even allowed to drink?" she retorts, smirking.

"How does it feel knowing your _brother_ saw your crush's dick before you did?"

She gapes at him. Sorry, he's not sorry.

"How does it feel knowing you'll find some way to fuck up your relationship before it's even-" she stops herself, her eyes widening in realization of what she just said. 

Well, this is awkward. 

Derek's self-deprecating side agrees immediately. He's been shutting that pesky voice up, still is, but the fact that even Cora knows about it – it sickens him. He thought he'd concealed it well enough. 

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to imply-"

Derek holds up his hand, indicating for her to stop talking. "It's fine, Cora. I know who I am. I just-I really see myself having a future with this guy. I know we've only gone out once but I've already fallen for him. The last thing I want to do is fuck it up."

She nods wordlessly. 

"I'm gonna go out for a run, but I'll call Isaac afterwards, okay?"

She waves her hand around dismissingly, "Don't worry it. I'll-It's fine. I know you don't want us to date. I won't go against you; he's your best friend-"

"And you’re my sister. I'm happy as long as you're happy, both of you. I'll call him. I promise."

She smiles thankfully. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

It's time to let things go. Time to prove that maddening voice wrong. Time to let things reform and mend.

It's time. 

 

\-----

 

Derek does call Isaac after his run (and after a long shower, because. You know.), and Isaac starts off by apologizing to Derek for not talking to him much recently, but he'd been so busy with school, he's hardly had time to speak to anyone. Not even Kyle. Derek reassures him that it's fine, he gets it. Tells him he's proud of him, and that he hopes he's getting good grades, to make it all worth it. 

_"I am, so far. Man, do you want to get Kyle into this call? We can threeway."_

Derek laughs. Isaac always goes for sexual suggestiveness, even in non-sexual situations. He kind of loves that about him. 

Kind of hates he's going to play matchmaker with his baby sister to a guy who makes way too many dick jokes. But hey, everyone's got their faults. "Maybe in a minute. There's something I need to ask you first."

_"Sure thing, man. Shoot."_

"Do you like Cora?"

_"I, uh. Sure, I like Cora."_

Oh, God. He cringes because he's actually going to have to explain this to Isaac the middle school way. "I mean, _like_ like her."

_"Oh. Um. I mean, she's a cool girl, but you're my bro, I wouldn't. Like, I wouldn't do that."_

He seriously loves this guy. Severely, immeasurably. "What if I told you that you could do that?" 

He seems to have stunned his friend into silence.

"Issac?"

_"I'm here. Um. Are you sure, Derek?_

"If I weren't, do you think I'd be telling you to go for it? Which I am, by the way, just so we're clear here."

Isaac laughs, _"Okay, okay. This-I mean, I don't know what brought this on, but thanks. I've had a crush on for forever."_

Now, Derek might have granted them permission to pursue their interest in each other – doesn't mean he can't have a little fun with it.

Clearing his throat, he puts on his solemn tone, "What do you mean for forever? You've known her since she was 10."

As predicted, Isaac's quick to protest, _"Oh my God, what, no! Not since then, I mean, I thought she was cute-but not like that! Like when you think a child is cute-not that I think children are cute. I mean, I do. But not in that way! Oh fuck. What is happening,"_ Derek clasps a hand over his mouth as his friend tries to save face. Total payback for that time Isaac gave Mrs. Jameson a love note in his name for Valentine's. He hears the blonde take a steadying breath. _"You're fucking with me, aren't you?"_

Derek lets a huge grin govern his face, "Yup. And you fell for it, _hard_."

 _"Yeah, well. At least my love life are about to take shape, wherein yours are fictional,"_ Isaac ridicules. 

Derek's grin turns sheepish. "Um. Well, actually…" he trails off. 

_"Actually? Derek Hale, are you telling me someone's managed to make a bleep on your radar?"_

Derek chuckles and bites his lip. "He's not only managed to make a bleep, he's sunk my ship. God, Isaac. He's perfect for me. We've just started things, but I'm so into him already."

_"Fuck, Derek. Are you serious? That is so great, man. Wait, I'm going to get Kyle in on this and you can tell us all about this amazing guy."_

And Derek does.

 

\-----

 

When the buzzer goes off around 8pm, it's unexpected. Cora's in the living room, watching Game of Thrones (he's _just_ got her to watch it, and she's already hooked. Derek's taste is sublime. It's natural she'd like it) and they both exchange curious looks as Derek goes to answer their unforeseen guest who's waiting by intercom. "Hello?"

 _"Hi, it's Stiles. Can I come up?"_ Derek's heart starts pounding. What the-

Oh God. He was not prepared to have Stiles over. He's in sweats and a stained white T; he alarmingly looks over at Cora, mouthing 'Stiles' in answer to her confused expression. It seems to dawn on her, and instead of freaking out like a good little sister, she grins. Manically. 

_Too_ much time spent with Erica. Too much. Bad influence.

"Uh, sure. Yeah," he replies dumbly and buzzes him in.

"Oh my," Cora says, "I'm pausing Game of Thrones for this shit, you better make it entertaining."

Derek scowls at her but forgoes replying in exchange of changing out of his poor outfit. Rushing to his bedroom, he's quick to abandon his clothes, slipping on an apple green Henley and shoving himself through tight black denim. That's totally casual for a lazy night at home, right? When he hears muffled voice, he curses himself for not being faster. Cora's got him now, his fate is doomed. 

He enters the living room cautiously, taking in his surroundings gradually. Stiles is sitting on the couch, facing Cora, laughing.  
Shit.  
Cora smirks as she turns to look at Derek. "Derek, you've got a visitor."

"Really, I haven't noticed," he deadpans. "Cora, why don't you watch TV in your room?"

Annoyed, Cora crosses her arms over her chest. "We both pay rent, jerkhole-" that's a new one. "-I can hang out here for as long as I want."

Derek groans, "Fine! We'll just go to my room. "

His heart picks up rate as he realizes Stiles will be present in the same place his masturbatory fantasies of the man occur. His heart races even faster when he notices the uptick of Stiles' lips.

"Okay," she simply says. As though-

As though she planned-

Oh, curse _her_ darkened mind. 

Derek resists the urge to outright snarl at her as he motions for Stiles to follow him, "Come on, Stiles."

Coming to a stop in front of his closed door, Derek falters reaching for the handle. Is his room tidy enough? How many embarrassing _Dungeons and Dragons_ memorabilia does he have out on display? How many of _Star Trek?_ The wall dedicated entirely to books, is it arranged alphabetically or has Derek been lazy? Because they both work in a book store, Stiles may judge him for-

"Is everything okay?" Stiles asks from behind him. Derek's eyes wander left and right, he can feel the sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat. This is too intimidating; he is not ready for Stiles to come into his most private location. Derek's immediate to turn around, facing the younger man. He wants to let him in, so much, in more ways than this – but he's going to need a touch of time to open up. Quick, an excuse, something realistic, something not moronic. Something, anything!

"Let's go to the bathroom."

That's-

No. Fucked up, that is so fucked up. Why is he so fucked up?

Stiles tilts his head sideways quizzically. "Okay?"

Derek bobs his head up and down decidedly. Good, Stiles' playing along. He's so thankful he's in love with a man who's just as ridiculous as he is. Fuck knows where they'd be if one of them were normal. 

He steps aside, leading Stiles into the nearby bathroom, flicking on the light and closing the door behind him. He puts down the toilet seat and motions for Stiles to sit down. Stiles chuckles, but complies, looking at Derek with obvious amusement. Derek takes his place atop the rim of the bathtub. "So, what's up?"

A logical questions. 

Stiles lifts one leg and places it onto the other. He smiles, "Not much, you?"

"Not much."

Jesus-

It sounds like they're texting. 

Stiles hums. It's awkward, not at all like their date, not at all like at the store. Before Derek can think too much about _what it all means_ , Stiles speaks, "I wanted it to be you today. With me, at the store. Instead of Erica, especially instead of Erica. Sorry, man, but she cracked me. Too easily, too. I told her about our date – not what went down, though. She said she'd get the info from you."

Derek smirks, "She can try."

Stiles grins, the air seems a lot more relaxed, "She's ruthless, Derek. I was trying to place an order from Penguin and she kept on smiling knowingly at me, saying weird stuff about candy canes – it was so weird. Your sister's nice, by the way."

He laughs. Yeah, that's Erica alrig-

Wait, what. His _sister's nice_? Is he referring to any of his other other sisters, the ones that aren't (as) aggravating?

"I think you're mistaken."

Stiles shakes his head, "No, Erica really did-"

Derek's hasty to interrupt, "No, about my sister. She's not nice, she's the devil. So's Erica, but I don't have to live with her, so I deal. " 

Stiles' smile is fond, "No, she's nice. Hugged me after I walked in, proceeded to tell me what great guy you are, how much you pretend to don't care about people, but you do. She also told me I have cute butt – at which point you walked in."

Derek blushes. Can't stop himself from going crimson. "Yeah, well. You know how siblings are - teasing on the surface, but supportive underneath," he tries guiltily.  
"Yeah," he laughs. "You two are close, huh?"

"More than I'd care to admit."

It's goofy, how much they smile at each other. Silly, really. Yet again he feels like a stupid teenager, and he doesn't even know if he wants that feeling to go away or not.

"So, any reason why you showed up at my place unannounced? Not that I'm not enjoying having you here, but I am curious." 

Stiles shrugs," Wanted to apologize."

Derek frowns, "What for?"

"For not calling. I promised I'd call when I woke up to reassure you I had a good night's sleep, I didn't. I apologize."

This-

This fucking guy.

Fuck him and his charming self.

Yeah. Fuck him.

Derek would _really_ like to fuck him. Now more than ever.

"Apology accepted."

Stiles nods and stands up, ambling over to Derek. He looks so tall like this, even though they're close in height. He looks up, Stiles looks down. Their eyes meet and Derek _knows_ , okay? He knows that look, he knows that heat. He sees the want.

And he only hopes he conveys the same.

"Actually," he gulps. "You might need to apologize more properly."

Stiles bites over his smirk and says, "Oh?

Not waiting clarification, Stiles leans down, capturing Derek's lips in a persistent kiss. He lets him take over, lets Stiles completely take what's rightfully _his._ Slowly rising to his feet, Derek keeps their lips attached as his hands settle on Stiles' hips while the other's go around Derek's neck. His hands slip under Stiles' shirt, feeling the warm, taut skin there. He's built differently than Derek's but it's a contradiction he welcomes with delight. Stiles' hands move up to grab his hair, fingers tangling in dark locks and softly massaging his head.

It's hot, the way their lips move easily against each other, the way they allow sighs and slight moans fall effortlessly from their mouths. The way Stiles' teeth nibble his lower lip _just so_. The way his luscious tongue beseeches for a way in. 

His hands move upward, raking Stiles' shirt up a bit as he explores his body inch by heartbreaking inch. He wants to feel that skin touch his. He wants to map his form, remember the location of each mole. He wants to know if Stiles' nipples are sensitive, if he likes being marked up, if he begs to be touched or demands it, if he-  
He wants to know if Stiles shivers when he gets kissed on his neck. He wants to know if-

He _wants_. 

He starts to harden, his snug jeans becoming even tighter and he presses himself against Stiles' lower half. He gasps as he feels it, the hardness. Stiles' hard because of him. He wants him, just as much as Derek wants him.

Derek ceases movement as he realizes something, though. Something he wishes he didn't have the sense to become conscious of. 

He doesn't want their first time to be in _the fucking bathroom, damn it._

He wants it to be special. He still doesn't know the circumstances in which Stiles ended up losing his virginity - but he still wants him to feel adored, worthy and unique. Because to Derek he is, and he wants Stiles to know that. 

Coming to his senses, Derek detaches himself from Stiles' incredibly soft lips and hard body, noticing how blown his pupils are, how utterly reddened his lips are. He did that, he _caused_ that. 

Affection, he's enveloped by it and it's a feeling he doesn't want going away. 

"Did I do something wrong?" Stiles asks, winded, his expression turning horrified in a nanosecond. 

Derek shakes his head, "No, you didn't-You're amazing, Stiles. You didn't do anything wrong. I just-" Oh God, he doesn't want to put his heart on his sleeve like this, but if he doesn’t-If he's not honest about how he feels – he knows it's a perfidious slop, and he wants to be as open with Stiles as he can be. And he can do this; he just has to pull through this _one_ admission. "I want you so much, Stiles. It kills me how much I want you. But I want our first time together to be stupidly wonderful. I stopped because I knew if we take this further, I wouldn't be able to."

He feels exposed. Like he took a knife to his own heart and twisted in the blade. His hands feel clammy as he waits for Stiles to respond.

Stiles breaths in, smoothing a hand over his collarbone and neck. Derek's eyes immediately zero in on the movement and- 

Stiles can't actually seek out revenge on Derek's refusal by torturing him like this. Can he?

No, that's high school. 

_Which Stiles left a mere two years ago-_

Jesus Christ, he keeps forgetting how young he really is. 

"I guess I can wait," Stiles says, dropping his hand. "But you remember I told you I'm not a virgin, right?"

Derek forces out a laugh, "No, I know."

Stiles takes a step closer, again inside Derek's personal space. And he needs to step back, okay? The air around him feels stifling. Too hot. His skin suddenly feels too hot. He's blushing, fuck. "Derek, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replies. 

"You're not-I mean, I know you're 26, but it's okay with me if you are."

Derek blinks.

What.

It takes a few seconds to connect the dots, but when he figures it out, he can't help but laugh hysterically. He thinks-

Holy fuck.

He thinks Derek's a _virgin_.

Stiles cringes. "No, then."

Derek wills himself to calm down. "No, no. I'm 100% not a virgin, trust me. I have done it, multiple times. With various people. In a variety of positions, too," he explains.

Stiles' eyes light up mischievously, "Versatile?"

Derek grins, "Yes, sir."

Stiles' eyes darken, and he whispers, "Derek, I know we're not doing anything now – but just so you know, when we do, I plan on having you multiple times, in a variety of positions. No various other people, though. I want you all to myself."

Oh. Well, okay then. 

The grit of Stiles' hushed tone, the intensity in his eyes, the heavy breathing-

Licking his lips instinctively, Derek nods.

It doesn't take Stiles long to press Derek against a nearby wall, pinning him down, their bodies too close to be misconstrue intention. "Stiles, no, not here. Not now," Derek reprimands.

Stiles whines, high and needy-

Fucking _hell._

"Want you," he murmurs as he begins to nip at Derek's jaw, hips grinding forward. Derek shudders. "Want you so bad."

Derek gasps as Stiles' hot mouth covers his jaw line and makes its way down his neck. The motion of their hips as sinuous and sinful as their lips. He wants-

God, he wants him, too. So, so much. But not like this, "Stiles, please, just. Stop."

 

Stiles reluctantly removes himself from his attack on Derek's neck, sighing in annoyance. "Let's just go to your room, then," he says, his eyes pleading at they meet Derek's. 

He's-

He's tempted.

He's really fucking tempted.

He's diverted from his inner quarrel by a loud knock at the door. "Hey, I'd hate to disturb - but I _really_ need to pee."

Cora, he forgot about Cora.

Stiles groans, "Not again."

"Again?"

Stiles pushes off of Derek, adjusting himself as he goes to stand by the sink. He turns the faucet before splashing water over his face, looking at Derek in the mirror, "Yeah. Remember Arielle? I was gonna kiss you yesterday when she interrupted."

Derek stops his fist from pumping the air. 

Hell _yes_. 

Derek smiles at him, "Come on, I'll see you out."

Stiles turns around, smiling back. "Sure."

He doesn't miss the disappointment. 

He feels it too.

But he realizes how slowly he wants to take things with Stiles, how he wants to make everything count. 

He wants every step in their relationship to matter.

Derek's going to make sure of it.

 

\-----

 

"It was nice seeing you," Stiles says as Derek opens his apartment's door. 

Derek smiles as Stiles moves past the threshold, "Yeah. Though it'd have been nice if you called or texted before showing up."

Would've given him more time to mentally _and_ fashionably prepare. 

Stiles grins back, "Wanted to surprise you. I'll make sure to text next time."

"Good. I'll see you next week at work?"

"Sure. I might text you constantly during the weekend, though. You know, to let you know I've had enough sleep."

Derek laughs, "I'd like that." 

Stiles inches closer and kisses him chastely, the fluttering butterflies still not subsiding in Derek's stomach.

It's a good sign as any, to know that this man still evokes those kinds of sensations in him. 

They part halfheartedly, exchanging goodbyes before Stiles jogs down the stairs.

Derek closes the door and slumps against it, sighing in a manner that can only be described as dreamily. Ruined, beyond belief. 

 

\-----

 

It's around 10pm when Derek gets a text from Erica. He's expecting her to text him about his date with Stiles, wonders why she hasn't yet. Instead, it's a picture with the tagline 'SHIFTS'. Derek frowns, she doesn't send him the shifts because he's always mornings. _Always_. He brings up the picture to discover that, no; he's doing noon shifts now, too.

What.

He's about to write a lengthy rant about agreements and working relationships to Erica when he notices it. 

All of his shifts? Are with Stiles.

All of Stiles' shifts? Are with Derek.

Fine line between like and dislike.

At the moment, he _really_ likes Erica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for not updating on Tuesday _yet again._  
>  Think I'm gonna stick to my original idea of updating once a week, as that seems more likely to happen now that I'm often times too busy to write.  
> Hope you enjoyed Derek interacting with more people, I know I did.
> 
> Just want you to know that your comments make my day, thank you so very much .<3
> 
> [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: embarrassing malfunction, now fixed!

Derek hates Mondays. No, scratch that. Derek has no exacting feelings regarding Mondays. He just abhors this particular one. Why? An observant person may inquire. Well, for instance, Stiles isn't here. He was supposed to have the noon shift with him, but apparently Scott infected him with his disgusting microbes. Now he's home, alone in bed, and sick.

And all Derek wants to do is go over there and cuddle him back into health. Damn it.

They've texted all weekend; from the most random thoughts to live texting about the show they're watching, to complaining about annoying roommates (Cora ruined the toaster. Again) to even a bit of sexting. So okay, they said they'd wait for any actual _physical_ sexual activity. Viral ones are allowed for now. He's yet to see Stiles' cock or vice versa, but he's sure he'd be amazingly fine with whatever the guy's packing. And well, not to brag, but Derek knows he's rather well endowed himself. He just hopes Stiles likes them uncut.

June 13th, Saturday

[18:13]

_blargh im sick_

[18:31]

What happened?

[18:34]

_dumb scott, never taking care of him ever again. i think i sneezed out my brain._

[18:36]

Hope you get better soon, might be a 24 hour thing

[18:36]

_i can think of a way you can make me feel better and quickly ;)_

[18:37]

I can't make chicken soup. Try Kira.

[18:38]

_you suck at flirting bro. hope you know im going to spend my entire time in bed thinking about you and jerking off._

[18:40]

What the fuck Stiles? Damn it. You made me hard.

[18:41]

_i can fix that for ya ;)_

[18:42]

No more winky faces, please. I'm going to go now. Hope you don't do anything stupid like jerk yourself off into oblivion. Feel better .

[18:44]

_you're no fun derek. i feel like shit, you're supposed to make me feel better. in many positions ;);););)_

__[18:59]_ _

___derek? shit did i break you?___

Another thing that sucks about this particular Monday is that he got word that his uncle is coming back from Nepal after many blissful years of him being away. Rare books giveouts notwithstanding, guy's an absolute, all-encompassing douche. The entire family was better off with him being away. Far, far, far away.

That piece of news correlates to another rather dreadful happenstance. Since Peter's back, Derek's parents decided the entire family needed to have a 'welcome back, Peter!' get-together at the Hale manor. Ugh. It would mean his parents would have to come back from their extended vacation in Greece. Peter just has a knack of being a throne in people's sides.

And because his life suck so badly, Cora had had to "accidently" let slip that Derek's been seeing someone.

_"Derek's been what, Cora?"_

_Cora's wide eyed, pouty lipped expression didn't fool him. She's planned this. She mouthed 'sorry' so unconvincingly, he suffocated the urge to hit her over the head. They're not kids anymore, that's not socially acceptable. Damn it._

_His mom's judging eyes moved between them both via Skype. "Someone better tell me what's been going on right now or there will be hell to pay."_

_Derek looked back at his mother, her gaze fixed on him with interest, "Um. It's nothing, really-"_

_He was interrupted by a loud snort from his baby sisters.  He turned to glare at her with as much venom as he could muster. Her raised eyebrow and slight smirk indicated that she wasn't impressed. He sighed. "I've just been seeing someone, is all."_

_Cora decided to meddle further since that dam has been apparently broken, "Someone he's deeply, completely in love with. Mom, he writes love sce-" Derek quickly grabbed Cora's head, plastering a palm over her mouth. Jesus fucking Christ was his baby sister tactless._

_"Cora, why don't you let Mom and me talk alone?" he told her, slowly removing his hand from her face._

_She poked her tongue out at him before parting ways with their mother, telling her how much she loved and missed her._

_"Okay, Derek. Spill."_

_Talia Hale tilted her head, sizing him. She had been highly skeptical of any mention of another person of romantic interest in Derek's life. Not that there'd been any since_ him _but even the odd date raised a well-groomed auburn eyebrow._

_"This guy I work with-"_

_"Work relationships never end well, Derek."_

_He groaned. He appreciated how much his mom cared about him, he really did. But there was a line, and there was a thing as too much meddling. Too much caring._

_"Well, if things go well, this relationship won't have to end. Besides, we're just starting out, Cora's exaggerating."_

_His could practically hear his heart skip the lying beat. He knew he was in too deep already, yet felt somewhat shameful he'd let himself fall so fast. So hard. It still felt like it should be between Stiles and him, no one else allowed entrance. Not yet._

_They talked about Stiles further, Derek telling her about him. She was surprisingly okay with his age, perhaps even content? But he couldn't be sure._

_They were about to end the conversation, Derek mostly pleased with the way it had turned out. Nothing too detailed, but just enough to put his mom's worries at bay. However, his mom, bless her, decided there should be added pressure to Derek's already tensed muscle cords._

_Really, bless her._

_"Alright, Der, it's getting late here and we're touring Crete tomorrow. Have a good day at work tomorrow; make sure to text your father or me."_

_He rolled his eyes, still like he's twelve years old and his parents are sending him off to school.  "I will. Goodnight, I love you."_

_She smiled, the lines around her eyes deepening. "Love you, too, honey.  One more thing, though."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Bring Stiles to the get together, I'm sure everyone would love to meet him."_

_Before he could protest, his mom had hung up. What the-_

_Well, shit._

So, yeah. There's that. Fuck his life.

How could he spring something like that on Stiles? <i>Fuck.</i>

He probably looks like the grumpiest beefed out guy in the world. He's simply standing behind the counter, arms crossed over chest, sulking. Costumers eye him warily and they don't seem too keen to buy their items. He knows Kira's too polite to say anything, probably just as scared of him since this is only their second shift together, he feels kind of sorry for her.

Kind of. His woes take precedent, though.

"Um. Do you, um. Do you maybe wanna go on a break?" She asks tentatively. 

His head snaps towards her, glare softening. Poor girl, she doesn't deserve this. He knows he needs to sort things out. "Do you think you could handle being here alone for a couple of hours?"

She nods, "Yeah, no problem. I-" she stops as the bell above the door rings, declaring the arrival of another costumer. They both turn to look.

It's.

It's Scott.

He walks over, smiling wide at Derek. "Hi, Derek, remember me? I'm Scott, Stiles' friend?"

Derek nods. What's he doing here? "Stiles' not here, you should know that."

He chuckles and chances a glance at Kira and-

Wait, is he blushing?

"Yeah, um. I got better and he got sicker, who knew. He asked me to get his book order for him, since he's bored and he knows the shipment should've gotten in today. Hi, Kira."

"Hi," she replies shyly.

Oh.

_Oh._

Derek can't help but watch them both in amusement. Apparently theirs isn't the only budding romance in the store. He laments all those noon shifts he missed watching these two timidly exchange smiles and eyeing each other dreamily. Would've been hilarious.

They're looking at each other, smiling. And Derek both loves and resents that, where's his guy to smile stupidly at him like that? Damn it. "Do you remember what book it was?"

Scott snaps out of his Kira trance, both blushing high and crimson. Jesus- have they even gone out?

He's kind of a hypocrite, isn't he? He already decided he's going to have grandkids with Stiles without even going on a date with him. Well, he's always been extra good at judging others and ignoring his own faults. Maybe he should look into that. Maybe. Probably won't, though.

"Um. Yeah, it's called _How I Paid For College?._ "

"Oh, yeah. I put it on the shelf, hold on," Derek goes to retrieve the book. It suites him. A book about a bisexual guy jumping through hoops to find a way to fund his college education. Practically written for Stiles, barring a few mismatches. He gets the book but pauses as he notices Scott and Kira engaged in conversation, same stupid smiles. The plan virtually plans itself. 

"Hey, Scott," he says, "Why don't I get this book to Stiles, and you stay here with Kira 'til I get back?"

Scott face has this weird mixture of pleased and confused. It's… confusing. "I, uh, I don't know how to work in a bookstore, Derek."

He waves his hand around dismissively, "It's not that hard, Kira will treat you like an intern. I was going to go visit him now anyway, you'll be doing me a favor," he winks, hoping his good gesture has come across. Kira seems oblivious though as she looks at Derek quizzically. 

And so is Scott, what.

Well, these two were made for each other.

Derek sighs, "Just, stay here. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

 

\-----

"You're not Scott," Stiles greets him at the door, nasally and sore throated, a huge blanket covering his frame. "But you're definitely a better alternative."

He smirks, glad to see that even in sickness Stiles' cheeky self remains the same. "I brought you your book," he waves it around for emphasis.

Stiles rolls his eyes but winces as though that action alone caused him immense pain. "Oh Derek, what you brought me is so much more than a book."

He assumes Stiles is attempting some sort of a come-hither look. Perhaps he thinks he looks sultry, sexy. Maybe even enticing.

 It ends up looking like he has to poop.

Derek grins, "Give it up, Stiles. Come on, let's get you back to bed. "

Stiles pouts but turns back inside, Derek following. He glances around the apartment, it looks quite typical for guys their age. Xbox One laying unceremoniously on the floor, band and video games posters plastered on the walls, empty Chinese takeout boxes and empty pizza cartons scattered all over the place. The couch looks like something the 70s threw up on the 90s and then the 90s called, gave it back to the 70s, only to end up back here.

It makes sense in Derek's head.

Stiles plops down on the heinous mustered colored couch, curling in on himself, moaning in discomfort. Derek's certain it's only partly honest. "I ache, Derek. All over."

Derek chuckles, and moves over to sit on a nearby recliner. Stiles buries himself further into the blanket.  "You poor baby."

Stiles shuffles his blanket around to give him the stink eye, "Suck my dick."

Derek blinks. He knows it's meant as a 'go fuck yourself' sorta way but yeah, he kind of really wants to suck his dick. He has this incredible urge to make Stiles feel good, especially now when the man is sick. It's-

It's actually quite alarming how much he wants Stiles to feel good.

Like he has this overwhelming desire to _serve_ him. Like a good little trophy-

There's a crazy thought.

He notices Stiles is staring at him, frowning.

Right. He should have had a comeback by now. He's taking too long to react. He should talk.

Like, right away.

Derek stands up, a little too sharply. Stiles' eyes widen up at him.

Still silent, Derek goes to kneel in front of Stiles who is still burrowed deep into his blanket, looking at him with saucer-like eyes.

"Derek, what-"

 He puts a finger to his lips, signifying to Stiles that this is not the time for words, but a time for actions.

He briefly backtracks on his resolve. The man is sick; this might not be a good idea.

Orgasms equal endorphins. Endorphins are good, make people feel better.

Make Stiles feel better. Derek's gonna make Stiles feel better.

He looks at Stiles, challenging him to deny this. To tell him that this is not a good idea. To laugh at him and tell him to get up and stop acting like an idiot.

Instead, Stiles sits up, throwing the blanket mindlessly on the other end of the couch. He wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand and even though that should be insanely gross-

No, it is. It's insanely gross. Nothing hot about it.

Derek twists his face and Stiles laughs. He likes it when Stiles laughs.

"I can't believe you're here," Stiles says with a tint of awe. Derek licks his lips, suddenly they're too dry. He notices Stiles tracking the movement, his own lips being gnawed on.

_Oh, it's on._

Stiles lifts up his hips to drag down his sweatpants. Commando, Derek's not surprised. He is surprised by how the guy's already half hard. He did that. His stomach flutters around with pride.

He's not as long as Derek, but he is thicker. His mouth starts watering from the mere thought of feeling the heavy weight of it on his tongue. It's pink. It's pale. It's pretty. Stiles has a pretty penis.

Stiles has a pretty everything.

 He looks up to see Stiles smirking down at him. Bastard. Derek finds smugness and arrogance to be such a turn-off usually, but with Stiles, it works. It's like, he has a reason. He actually _is_ all that.

He realizes how it's always been there, that cockiness. From the moment they've met and he tried to flirt with Derek while getting himself a job. Honestly, Derek wouldn't have it any other way.  He loves it.

He grasps Stiles in his hand, his grip firm but not too tight. It pulsates upon touch, and he hears Stiles let out a soft gasp. He swells with pride and decides to have a taste, removing his hand to lick from base to tip. He's hot, no doubt from the fever. He tongues the slit, heeding yet another gasp, a louder one this time. Derek grins and swallows the head. This time Stiles moans. And it's oh so filthy; Derek shudders from the sheer sound.

He tastes like sweat and salt and it's all Derek's ever wanted to taste, he's sure of it. He goes down further, swallowing as much as he can in one go. He's never been much of a deepthroather, but he thinks that with mild practice, he could swallow Stiles whole. He gathers Stiles would have no problem being used as a training tool

He starts bobbing his head, up and down, getting himself into a fixed rhythm, sucking as hard as he can. He relishes Stiles' moans, so strident and dirty. Sweeter than heaven, hotter than hell. His own cock throbs with each moan. So hard. He thinks briefly he might be able to come without even touching himself, from the taste of Stiles and his sounds alone. A shiver runs through him.

The fingers digging into his scalp deliver a comfort of sort, they help keep him grounded. He pulls off to suck on his balls, taking his time nursing on one before moving onto the other. He's rewarded with a deep groan, "God, Derek. So good."

Pleased by the praise, he pulls off to look at his work. Stiles is flushed and panting. The once pale pink cock now a shade darker and hard as rock. His full, delicious looking mouth hangs loose, and he just-

He moves up to shove his tongue into that stupid mouth, actually trying to devour him whole. They both moan. He's so fucking hard right now, he just wants everything from this guy. The sex, the dating, the I do's. Everything. He feels high, like Stiles is the best drug he's ever consumed. And he can't get enough.

He quickly makes work of his belt and pants, shoving his way too tight jeans and boxers down roughly. He gets his dick out and moves closer to Stiles, grabbing them both in his hand. Stiles groans into his mouth, and Derek refuses to stop kissing him.

It feels so right, being this close to Stiles. There's enough wetness from Stiles' precum and Derek's spit for him to stroke them both, he knows they're both already unbelievably close. Derek knows he won't last long. He reluctantly detaches his mouth from Stiles', seeing as they both probably require air. Stupid air.

Instead they pant into each other's mouth, moaning and groaning as their climaxes approach. It feels so good, the slick slide of Stiles' cock against his, the pleasure of his forehead against his temple, the dry lips moving light on his.    

Stiles comes shuddering and gasping, crying out, "Derek!" before slumping down exhausted on the couch. Derek releases Stiles' oversensitive cock and begins jerking off frenetically, chasing after his own pleasure.

He lifts up Stiles' shirt, even though it's already stained with Stiles' own cum. He runs his fingers on Stiles' abs, feeling how they clench at his touch and that's what finally sets him off. He comes twice as hard as he usually does. Moans louder, too.  He chants Stiles' name over and over again as he rides out his peak, collapsing and sprawling on top of the man after getting himself well spent. He lightly places soft kisses along Stiles' neck and the other sighs, pleased. He starts carding his fingers through his Derek's hair and Derek hums in contentment.

"Well," Stiles breaks the silence after a few heavenly moments. "You're the best boyfriend ever."

And holy-

His heart starts pounding. Boyfriend? Holy shit. Boyfriend?!

He's Stiles' boyfriend. Stiles is _his_ boyfriend. Right, that makes sense. Sure, they've only gone on one real date, but they've known each other longer. It's not too soon. Right?

Right?

He tells himself to relax. Calm, cool, collected. Calm, cool, collected. Calm, cool, collec-

"I sure am."

Awesome response, way to go. Solid. No way to fuck that up.

He rolls over, giving Stiles some room. Derek looks over to see Stiles smiling at him, so fondly, so adoringly. It breaks his heart how much he never wants to see that man holds another expression again.

But because he's _him._

Because he's _Derek freaking Hale._  

Because he's the absolute worst, and should just be fired from life-

The niggling, questioning thoughts aren't slow to follow.

And of course, he's got to voice them. "Not that I'm not happy with the title, but when did I achieve boyfriend status?"

Stupid. So stupid. Should've just left it be.  But no, couldn't leave well enough alone. He had to introduce misery to it in case it wanted some company.

Stiles' smile withers and yes, indeed a stupid fucking question, fucking hell- "Forget it, I-"

"You know, Derek," Stiles cuts him off. "I've known how you felt about me for awhile. I guess I was waiting for you to get over whatever you were dealing with that made you hold back so much. I do suppose I shouldn't have assumed-I mean, you're my boyfriend. I wouldn't want to give you any other title. Not 'the guy I'm seeing', not 'the man I'm dating', but my boyfriend. If you think it's too fast-" Derek shakes his head, no. Stiles smiles. "I don't like playing games, not when they're not required. Do you require games, Derek? Because if so, we can go on a couple more dates, text some more, meet each other's friends, have 'the talk' about commitment and what we mean to each other. We can do that, if you'd like. But I think we don't need that. What do you think?"

He gulps down harshly. What does he think? He thinks he wants to marry this guy. He wants to elope, right this instant. Of course, that might be the endorphins talking. He thinks it fits them, fits their pace. It's amazing how fast, and yet slow they seem to take things. It's unconventional but it works for them. He smiles, "I think I'd like to make my boyfriend some hot cocoa."

Stiles' grin is beautiful and blinding. "Don't forget the tiny marshmallows, honey puff."

Derek glares but moves to slip back into his boxers and jeans. "No nicknames." He makes himself somewhat presentable and gets up, making his way to the small kitchen. Once there, he hears Stiles shout,

"No worries, sweetheart. Wouldn't dream of it, sugerplums. Not in a million years, babycakes. I'll only ever call you Derek, honey bear. Yes, sir, pumpkin pie spicy latte. Only Derek. Darling."

\----

"This is a mighty fine cocoa, apple of my eyes. I should let you make all my cocoas from now on, puddin' head."

Derek opens his mouth to retort but instead feels as his nose begins to tingle and eventually, he sneezes. Oh shit.

Stiles just laughs. "Germs suck, twinkle toes. At least we'll be sick together, babe. "

Derek frowns, this isn't funny. He's supposed to get back to the store soon, and-

Another sneeze. Fuck his life. Stiles laughs harder.

"Worst boyfriend."

Stiles shakes his head, "Best. Remember that, monkey buns."

Derek rolls his eyes.

 His head starts to hurt. He's definitely getting a cold-

Worth it, though?

Worth it.

"I gotta get back to the store."

"I can't believe you left that poor girl alone at the store, stud muffin."

It's Derek's turn to feel smug, "I didn't. I left her with Scott."

Stiles' face lights up and he puts down his cup, climbing onto Derek's lap. Well, he's not complaining. "You perfect man, you. I've been trying to find a way to set those two up for ages now, sugar puss."

Derek ducks down sheepishly, "Well, you know- wait. Sugar puss?"

Stiles shrugs. "I may have googled stupid boyfriend nicknames while you were in the kitchen. Who knew huggalump is a thing?"

Derek grins and brings his arms around Stiles' middle, bringing the younger man closer to his form. He doesn't care he's getting ill (he's probably going to regret thinking that in the height of Advils and tissues), he's got Stiles right here and that's all he needs. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're a hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love."

Derek crashes their lips together. Because, why not?

\-----

He gets back to the store, mostly because he knows he can't actually leave Kira alone with Scott for too long. It took a while, longer than twenty minutes to dislodge himself from Stiles. He didn't want to let go, didn't want to part from the sight of that beautiful man. But alas.

His life has turned into a Bronte romance novel. And he's fine with it.

He remembers halfway through closing that he forgot to tell Stiles about the get-together. He's not as freaked out, though, not anymore.  Stiles is going to come with him as his _boyfriend_ , and he's going to charm people's socks off. It's going to be okay, he's sure of it.

And that feeling, that feeling of everything finally working out, finally falling into place? It's not a feeling Derek's familiar with. The pesky voice? Is finally silent. Even when Derek himself yells at it to speak up, it cowards in the corner of his mind and doesn't speak.

He's… happy. This is what happiness feels like.

He's never seen himself as someone who needed another person to be truly happy, but maybe that's not such a bad thing. He's not dependent on Stiles, he simply needs him. Stiles is the answer to his yet unthought-of question. He's the key.  

Kira leaves ten minutes earlier. He grins haughtily as she tells him it's because Scott and her made plans. He also texts Stiles about it right away.

He gets in return, 'hell yeahs! props to you, pookie."

Derek only chuckles and finishes tallying up the register.

He's locking up when he hears footsteps approaching. He dismisses them. Every store on the street is closed by now; Derek lingered behind to tidy up a few bookshelves he wasn't present at the time to organize. He digs Kira but he's sure she was too distracted making lovey-dovey eyes at Scott to maintain order.  

The steps become louder and Derek frowns when they stop behind him. Did Kira forget something? He turns around and his heart plummets down into abyss. His throat closes up. His palms-

Why-

"Hello, Derek."

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, I'm the worst, right? Sorry for the really long gap, I've been a busy bee. Real life, who knew they happen, amirite? *crickets* Um. Tough crowd.
> 
> Anyway! Hope you enjoyed. Your comments and kudos are greatly loved.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://heysugarbaby.tumblr.com/).


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